


Oh to be Divine...

by Skraeling, TurningintoR



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (who calls their child Luther of all things), Adopted Sibling Relationship, Aztec Mythology - Freeform, Ben doesn't die, Disabled!Ben, F/M, Five Doesn't dissappear, God - Freeform, Gods, Gods!AU, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Gunshot Wounds, Healing, Hindu/Buddhist mythology, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Long, Luther actually being Number One, Luther is actually a good brother in this, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, No bashing (apart from Sir Reginald), Norse Mythology - Freeform, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Robots, Self-destructive habits, Sibling Bonding, Slavic mythology, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Trigger warning for very graphic violence, Whump, agnst, all of the Hargreeves siblings are Fucked Up, bentacles, but no sex, no beta we die like ben, psuedo incest, the Devil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-02-29 15:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 38,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18780892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skraeling/pseuds/Skraeling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurningintoR/pseuds/TurningintoR
Summary: Ben and Luther are sent on a mission. Ben gets ripped apart- but he doesn't die. He really should have done. He and the rest of the Hargreeves siblings set out to understand why and fully gain control of their rather random powersets.Gods!AU that no one asked for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written any fics for almost five years, please be gentle. I'll try and tag any trigger warnings in the description. Initial major trigger warning for violence- I am a forensics student and have a stomach of iron and a great compartmentalising system and have no qualms about being descriptive. Also the siblings are all 17 in this- so 2006- apart from Five who is physically 13 for Reasons.
> 
> I've had this plot bunny for a while now and I've finally decided to post it. My updating schedule will probably be Fridays and Sundays and I'm currently sitting on about a month's worth of chapters at this rate and have challenged myself to write at least 1000 words per day; much to my detriment as I have exams coming up. Kudos, comment, bookmark etc if you want. Enjoy!

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth.  
This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

Or at least, that is what he told everyone. Of course, that is not at all what happened. Sir Reginald Hargreeves knew exactly what was going to happen because he had orchestrated it. 

On the first hour of the first day of October 1989, Sir Reginald Hargreeves knelt in a chalk circle, ringed by 50 ancient relics. He had thousands in cash in multiple currencies neatly sorted into bundles packed into leather briefcases by the door. His private plane was being readied as he knelt on the cold stone. 

He opened his eyes. Seven of the candles placed before the relics had gone out, silver plumes of smoke rising from them into the cold night air.


	2. In which Ben and cefalopodos don't mix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Luther go on a dangerous mission and things go south pretty quickly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** Graphic descriptions of violence and panic attacks

Klaus froze in shock on the bottom stair. Luther and Ben had been sent out on a mission late last night. Klaus had waited up for Ben, spending a nice evening getting high in preparation for the shitty night that was to come. But then three hours had passed and they hadn’t turned up- two member missions normally didn’t take that long. After five hours he had started to get antsy, so he ducked into Diego’s room and curled up on the end of his bed, the quiet, muffled snores soothing his nerves. Yelling had woken them both just before dawn- Diego scowled at him as they ran down the hall, following the noise. 

“I thought I told you not to d-do that anymore,” he hissed at Klaus, who just stuck out his tongue at him. The yelling got louder as they hurled themselves down the stairs. Klaus almost tumbled headlong down the steps as his gaze fell on the scene in the entrance hall, Diego catching him and pulling him back up. He had to take a few more steps before regaining his balance. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bannister. Diego paused behind him, fingers still threaded through his belt loops (typical Klaus, not getting undressed to sleep).

Luther was on his knees barely inside the door, and there was blood on his hands. He looked up as he heard Diego and Klaus. Tears have made clean tracks through blood coating his face. His blonde hair looked as dark as the rest of theirs in the dim light. Slowly he lowered his eyes to what was in his lap. Klaus followed his gaze. In his lap was Ben. Ben who…

Ben who was missing-

Ben who was in pieces. 

Jagged white bone gleamed in the moonlight spilling through the door windows. 

Yellow-white clumps of fat dangled from the short stumps that were all that was left of his legs. 

Soft red-brown tentacles dangled from his abdomen. No… Those weren’t tentacles, those were intestines. 

Klaus let out a high keening noise and scrambled across the black-and-white (red- red the colour of fine wine) tiles, sliding in the liquid. He fell to his knees (the tiles were soft beneath his knees) before his brother. He grasped Ben’s unaffected right hand, pulling it to his heart. His eyes met Ben’s. Those kind brown eyes reflected the fear that Klaus himself felt. Klaus stroked filthy hair away from Ben’s forehead, muttering unintelligible words under his breath. 

“Wh-wh-what happened?” Diego could barely force the words out. He knelt next to Klaus, eyes on his hands clenched in fists in his lap, breathing through his mouth so the rich copper-iron tang of blood or the foul odor of something worse didn’t make him vomit or pass out. 

Luther only managed to make aborted sounds, hands carefully, oh so carefully, pressing on Ben’s abdomen, trying to hold in the blood and organs ( _it’s not working. It’s not working.It’snotworkingit’snotworkingit’snotworking_ ). 

Klaus can’t focus on anything that’s going on around him, stroking Ben’s hair over and over. Ben tries to speak but blood only bubbles out of his lips. _Not Ben, he’s the best of us. Not Ben. Not Ben_ is all he allows himself to think, desperately keeping his mind away from his knowledge of combat medicine. Sir Reginald had made them listen to lectures on it for three months when they were 11 before he got fed up of Diego fainting at the meal table from squeamishness. 

_“Gut wounds are very likely to get infected...Painful, slow death”_

He doesn’t react when he hears something in his ar, assuming it’s one of the other members of the Academy come to join his vigil. He still doesn't react when a hand grips his shoulder, hard. Arms wrap under his armpits and cold fingers pry his away from Ben’s. And then he’s in the air, being lifted away from Ben. 

“No, no, please, put me down. Put me down!” He yells, scrabbling at the arms next to his head. The arms don’t listen to him, but carefully place him down on one of the sofas in the drawing room. He turns to see Mother and Luther carefully scooping what remained of Ben onto a stretcher and wheel him out of sight. 

The arms are still around him, he follows them to Diego, who is sitting next to him. Covered in blood. Ben’s blood. Diego is covered in Ben’s blood. He’s covered in Ben’s blood. 

He can’t breathe. There’s a vice around his chest and his ears are ringing. His hands are twisted painfully hard in his hair as he tries to get air into his aching lungs. 

Suddenly he’s in someone’s lap- the last rational part of his mind supplies that it’s probably Diego’s. He could feel the person’s chest rise and fall behind him, in an even, exaggerated rhythm. He lets his mind focus on it, and air starts to enter his lungs. He can hear some strange whining, whimpering noises like a dying animal. He takes a while to realise that it’s him. He stops, but tears spring to his eyes, and he starts to sob instead, head twisted and his face pressed into Diego’s chest. 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

After he stops sobbing Diego carried him upstairs to his favourite bathroom. He’s carefully undressed by soft hands- Allison- he thinks distractedly. He’s lifted and placed into the warm water and allows Allison to wash the blood from him. Diego is back by the time the water starts to get cold. He dressed Klaus into his favourite pajamas and helped him downstairs. 

They join the rest of the Academy members in the drawing room, huddled up together on the sofas. Klaus is sat down next to Vanya, who is curled into Five. Diego squashed himself into the corner of the sofa next to Klaus, his arms going back around him. Allison and Luther sit on the sofa opposite them, their fingers entwined. Luther’s shiny blond hair is gone, a few centimetres of light brown stubble in its place. Despite how much he had resented Luther as the blond ‘all-american’ boy before, it makes Klaus’ heart ache to see it gone. 

Mid-day sunlight filled the room, mocking the sombre atmosphere when Pogo entered the room. His cane knocked against the tiled floor too loudly in the silence. He shuffled forward, his gait more strained than usual. 

“Master Ben is alive.” 

The six children shared stunned looks. They had been waiting to be told that Ben had died. The amount of blood… 

Klaus fell to the floor in his effort to get up without disentangling himself first. Pogo gave him a hand to his feet. 

“I suggest that you go and get some rest Master Klaus. Master Ben will not be well enough for visitors for several hours yet. Sir Reginald wants you down for dinner promptly at half past seven, as usual.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you guys enjoyed the first proper chapter. If anyone has any questions, feel free to leave a comment as I can probably write an entire dissertation on this thing already!
> 
> Also, I thought that this was a great explanation for Luther's hair at the time. I dunno, I'm gonna leave it like that- that's what comes from not really wanting to reread your own work (I'm blaming it on choosing exclusively essay based subjects for the past few years. Like, wtf brain, you know you're dyslexic what are you doing????)


	3. In which Sir reginald has an Announcement to make

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir Reginald is an Arsehole tm and he decides that dropping plot exposition is a great thing to do at the meal table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally gonna be two chapters and not up until tomorrow, but I am procrastinating revising and this is an excellent way to procrastinate.

Klaus entered the infirmary cautiously, peeking around the door before slipping in. Ben lay propped up on the bed, eyes closed, the remains of his limbs covered in thick bandages. Upon coming closer he realised that what he’d taken for a hospital gown was actually tick swathes of bandages covering his abdomen and chest. An IV stand dripped various fluids into him. Klaus’ heart ached to see him like this. 

He approached the bed slowly and sat down carefully on a clear corner of the bed. Sir Reginald never allowed the members of the Academy to spend extended periods of time when one of them was ill, so there wasn’t a chair for him to sit on. He was glad of his skinny frame for the first time at that moment. He reached forward to clasp Ben’s uninjured hand. 

Ben stirred then opened his eyes. Slowly his gaze flicked about the room, then settled on Klaus. A tiny twitch of his lips was as much as he could smile; Klaus knew him well enough to recognise it. 

“Hey, Benny. You gave us a scare,” Klaus murmured quietly, his thumb rubbing circles on Ben’s knuckles. He tried to smile, but he could only manage a grimace. 

“Me too.” Ben croaked. “I thought I was going to die,” he shifted away slightly, drawing in on himself as much as he could. “Not sure why I didn’t” He mumbled. He gazed at the stump of his arm and legs morosely. 

Klaus reached over and turned Ben’s face to him with his fingertips. He did smile then, “hey, you’re alive, Betacles. That’s all that matters. For once Ol’ Reggie being an expert in robotics and stupidly rich will actually do you some good- he’ll be able to get you nice fancy prosthetics.” Ben wrinkled his nose and sighed. 

Klaus lit up, “do you remember that documentary we watched? About that guy who was in a train accident? He has a prosthetic arm with a remote helicopter on the shoulder. And torches in the fingers. You could get torches! Or a computer in your arm! Or-” 

“Number Four what are you doing here?” Sir Reginald snapped. 

Klaus jumped away from the bed. Ben sent him a disappointed look. 

“Out! I will deal with you later.” 

Klaus scampered away, heart much lighter for having talked with Ben. He skipped up the stairs to the bedrooms. He burst into Diego’s room. He jabbed Diego in the shoulder. “Wake up, brother-mine.” He sang as he flopped onto the bed, jostling Diego awake. 

Diego groaned and sat up, glaring at him. 

“Ben’s awake and talking!” Klaus exclaimed. All of the tension flooded out of Diego. Klaus, however, drooped slightly, his exuberance leaving him after he delivered the news, the grim reality of the situation returning to him. “He’s covered in bandages though. And he's only got his right arm left.” He twisted his shaking hands together in his lap. 

Diego gripped his shoulder. “M-mom is looking af-aft-ter him, remember. Mom’s the best.” He smiled at Klaus. Klaus nodded, smiling a little in return and rubbed a few stray tears from his eyes with his knuckles. “Go get dressed. Dinner is soon.” 

Klaus nodded and left the room. Diego stared after him in wonder. He’d floated a few centimetres off the floor as he left, his toes barely skimming the floor. He’d never done that before. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

All six teens looked worn and tired at dinner. They waited by their designated chairs for Sir Reginald. They weren’t allowed to talk, so they signed to each other discreetly. Sir Reginald insisted that they all learnt as many languages as possible and proficiency in sign language made them look good for the cameras. They'd kept it up over the years, perfecting it until they could have a full conversation without anyone else realising, even whilst eating. It had helped Klaus in many of his worst moments, being able to communicate without adding to the racquet that the ghosts created. It meant that he could have conversations with them whilst still listening to his music at the worst of times. And it helped him not fidget all the time- Sir Reginald hated him fidgeting.

Klaus informed them that Ben was awake and talking, which sent a relieved ripple around the table. Once he'd finished communicating, he took to stroking the wood of his chair over and over, trying to keep himself from jittering. He was slightly buzzed thanks to the therapeutic joint he’d smoked quickly while getting dressed, but a single joint was barely enough to keep him calm on an ordinary day. Now it was just enough to keep him from screaming aloud or running around the room like a headless chicken. Just enough to suppress his wild laughter at the mental image. 

Allison caught his fingers, squeezing gently to the rhythm of a song- Klaus couldn't remember which one, something poppy probably. He closed his eyes and tried to match the beat. Once he had caught up, he let out a shaky breath. He grinned sheepishly at her but kept holding her hand. It earned him a scowl from Luther, who got an elbow in the ribs for his trouble. 

Sharp clicking on the tiled floor made them snap back into position- shoulders back, posture straight, head up. Sir Reginald walked into the room smartly, pausing behind his chair. Pogo and Grace were lingering in the hallway, looking uncomfortable. 

“I have an announcement to make. I expect no fuss, as usual.” He pronounced curtly. “The reason why number Six is not dead is the same reason why you have powers. Number Six is, in fact, a god in human form. As are the rest of you. I am unsure of which. Now, sit.” He finished curtly. 

Klaus met Diego wide-eyed gazed across the table, his mouth was hanging open in shock. Allison had gone white, Five was frowning and Luther’s fork was looking more and more like a piece of abstract art with every passing moment. Vanya was staring at her plate. Klaus wanted to laugh. It was getting harder to keep in. Him? A good-for-nothing, useless drunk who was well on his way to a full-blown junkie? The universe was laughing at him. 

Dinner was even more painfully awkward than usual. Every scrape of cutlery on crockery boomed in the quiet. Sir Reginald had had the basic decency to not play a lecture, allowing the teens to stew in their own minds. Klaus jumped at a sharp pain in his ankle; he glared at. She tapped his ankle twice, more gently. He tapped back twice in agreement. It was an old code they’d developed, like the sign language. His legs were longer, so he reached out, careful not to telegraph his movements and tapped Diego twice on the knee. He got a minute nod in return, barely a dip in the head. Diego passed on the message to Luther and five, who in turn passed it to Vanya. Ben would normally tell Vanya. But his chair was glaringly empty.

After dinner had finished, they reconvened in the attic, as arranged, apart from Five, who had somehow not arrived yet. Klaus sat down on the floor, legs pulled up to his chest, Diego sitting next to him, legs crossed so his knee was in contact with Klaus’ shin. Allison sat down neatly on an old box, Luther leaning on a post behind her. 

“Where’s Five?” Diego asked, impatience and frustration clear in his voice. 

“Here.” Five declared from the doorway, holding a red leather bound book with gold lettering along the spine. “I stole this from Dad’s office.” He sat down on the floor and set down the book with a thunck. It was huge; no wonder Five had taken longer than normal to jump it upstairs. 

“Dictionary of mythology,” Vanya read from where she was sat curled next to him. “Why this one, we have this in the library?” Five shot her an exasperated look, but it had a fondness that he didn’t show for the rest of them.

“Because of this.” He opened the book with a dramatic thump of the pages on the floorboards. The page was full of tiny writing and even smaller annotations in Sir Reginald’s hand. “I saw father writing in it once, years ago, when I was practising my jumps.” 

“What does it say?” Luther demanded, unable to read the writing. He’d placed a comforting hand on Allison’s shoulder; she leant into it, soaking up the affection like a sunlight-starved flower.

Five squinted at the page. “Yama; a Hindu/ Buddhist god of death. Is said to have dominion over a hell or purgatory dimension... Dad has written #6 in the margin, along with hell-gate.” He glanced at Vanya who was frowning. They all turned to look at Klaus, who looked as confused as they felt- when he had heard the description they had all thought that that would be Klaus, including Klaus himself. And hell-gate, that sounded exactly like what he would be. 

“Wait, why is Ben a death god?” Diego asked, rubbing a hand over his face in weariness. His mind was reeling with the events of the last day, he had no energy left to parse out riddles like this. 

“Huh...Ya’ know, it would make sense.” Klaus, of all people, answered him, sounding the words out slowly, as if thinking out loud, “Like, where do all the tentacles come from in hentai? They tend to be more demon-y than sea-y. Maybe the Bentacles are his creatures of the Underworld?” His arms flailed about, almost hitting Diego in the face. Diego prodded him in the ribs; Klaus flashed him a sheepish smile.

“Klaus! Don’t be disgusting!” Allison exclaimed face wrinkled in disgust. Luther looked at her confused. Allison patted his hand in an ‘I’ll explain later’ gesture. 

“Crude Klaus. But, a good point nonetheless.” Five cut in smoothly. “We all just assumed that Ben’s Tentacles,” (Five point blank refused to call them ‘Bentacles’, he wasn’t _five_ ), “originated from an ocean dimension. A hell dimension would make logical sense also.” 

“Five, old chap. When have our lives made any logical sense?” Klaus shot back. 

“Get on with it, would you?” Diego snapped. “Tell us first, then let’s understand later!” 

Five rolled his eyes and muttered something rude under his breath, but obligingly flicked back to the beginning of the book. Three pages in, he stopped, spotting another set of annotations in his father’s impeccably neat copperplate.

“Aphrodite- Greek goddess of love. Is said to be older than the Olympians and one of the most dangerous gods of them all. It says #3 and ‘perhaps girdle?’ next to it.”

Allison preened at this revelation, flicking her hair behind her ear. Luther sent her a soppy look. Five shuddered. He really wasn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection, or really affection at all, although he was trying to work through that as best he could without a therapist.

“Athena,” Vanya read from over Five’s shoulder at the same page, her hair dangling into his eyes, “Greek goddess of wisdom, war, battle strategy, crafts and weaving. One of the three maiden goddesses. Is said to have sprung from the head of her father fully formed. There’s a number five in the margin.” 

Five’s eyes were narrowed in consideration. After a moment he looked pleased with the revelation; wisdom and war- it suited him perfectly. He was going to come back to the goddess part later.  
“Atlahua- Aztec god of water, particularly fishermen and archery. Number two.”

Diego nodded, surprised that there was an actual reason to his seemingly random set of powers. Reginald would never have let him use a long range weapon such as a bow, but knives were close enough. 

Vanya leant over and turned the pages, taking a few minutes to kind another marked page. “Kernunnos- a Celtic and Germanic god, usually depicted as horned. Mostly associated with fertility and wildness, although he is also known to be associated with the Wild Hunt, inspiring madness in a similar fashion to another horned god Pan. May have also been a psychopomp… Number four. What does psychopomp mean?” Vanya asked. 

“Someone who guides spirits to the afterlife. Like, what the fuck? I could have been an amazing dude of parties and orgies and wild hunts and stuff. Why in the name of Christ’s ever-loving balls am I stuck with the ghosties?” He whined. 

“Klaus. You are currently high. You stink of weed; I’m pretty sure you fit the wild category quite well.” Five said, an eyebrow raised. He turned back to the book dismissively. He had almost reached the back when he found the next annotation.

“Tyr- Germanic and Norse god of war. Is thought to have originally occupied the position of Woden (or Odin in Norse myth) or Donar (Thor). Number 1.” 

Luther nodded, not surprised. Well, not any more surprised than one normally was when told at the age of 17 that your superpowers come from the fact that you are a divine being trapped within mortal flesh (which was a lot of surprises, even for Luther's normally laid back attitude)

Vanya turned the pages of the book, the closer she got to the end, the further she wilted and drew in on herself. Finally, she got to the penultimate page looking like she was about to cry; her chin was trembling and she was blinking a lot. Whether in relief or disappointment was anyone’s guess. Was it good to be normal and not have to worry about being divine? Or was it disappointing to always be left out? To know that however hard she tried, she could never live up to her siblings’ superhuman- no, inhuman- feats.

“Look!” Five jammed his hand onto the page stopping her from shutting the book. He reopened the book to the last page. “Zorya- a Slavic goddess who has a triple nature, falling into the maiden/mother/crone archetype. She represents the evening and morning stars, and potentially also fills the role of Aurora, the Roman Dawn goddess, meaning that she is potentially the remnants of a proto-Indo-European goddess. Number Seven!” He exclaimed triumphantly.

“See.” Five said gently, “you are one of us. You’re our evening star- we need you to navigate us through the dark.” Vanya blushed pink and Klaus let out a startled laugh. 

“Five! You are actually human! Showing human emotion!” He cackled then stopped and looked confused. “Or god-emotion? go-motion? I suppose?” He blinked owlishly.

Five narrowed his eyes at Klaus’ childish behaviour. 

“I for one love the idea that Five was born fully formed.” Allison held her hands up placatingly, grinning, “if I hadn’t known you as a baby I’m not sure I could ever believe you to be a child Five. As it is, I’m still not sure. It also could be why you haven’t aged since you were 13?” she suggested.

Five shifted uncomfortably; his appearance was a bit of a sore spot for him. The others had grown and developed and were well on their way to adulthood. He hadn’t changed physically since the age of 13. Sir Reginald had taken it as a sign of more powers and had done test after horrible test. He smothered a shudder. “Perhaps,” he acknowledged scowling. 

“Five, why don’t you go and check to see if Ben is awake? I’m sure he’d want to know about this if he is.” Vanya suggested to him gently, diffusing the tension. Five nodded to her and disappeared in a flash of blue light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to argue with me about Five coming into the world as a fully formed Five you can go ahead and fight me (or the cat who is scent marking my face as I try and type this. Rude, Fluffbutt, rude. Also, gross)
> 
> So my reasoning for who is who came mostly from the cultural background of their names (Deigo, Klaus, Luther and Vanya). This was originally gonna be a GreekGods!AU but then I had the urge to figure out something better for Vanya than a mush of Hesta and Hephaestus. So I left Five and Allison as they were because after 2500 years I think it's highly likely that they both had some Greek ancestry somewhere. But that then deprived me of Hades!Ben which is what gave me the idea in the first place, so I had to find something else that would fit him. But like, the idea of Ben (who is dead, constantly wearing black, entirely too sassy for my poor little heart and constantly reading) being Hades is just now my headcanon. Does it make sense in any context outside my fic? No. Does it make sense in my fic? No again. Does it make sense in my heart? Why, yes, yes it does. So there's that.


	4. In which we learn what happened to Ben

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we finally learn what happened to Ben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, seriously guys TRIGGER WARNING for graphic descriptions of violence, suicidal thoughts and implied/ referenced self-harm. If any of these things trigger you, please for the love of all the is Holy do not read. Even if you want to be triggered. Please don't (I've been there and it only makes stuff worse).

The pillow was uncomfortably warm under Ben’s cheek. He really wanted to roll over and find a cool part to lay his head on so he could sleep. But his legs… well, what was left of his legs hurt when he shifted them, so did his injured arm. His other arm had an IV in it and it was super uncomfortable to lie on. So he just lay on his back staring at the ceiling, the blue moonlight allowing him to discern the cracks in the paint which he traced over and over again with his eyes, picking out a new pattern each time his eyes shifted. 

Luckily he wasn’t in pain when he lay like that, just uncomfortable. They had retreated since the incident earlier, all he could feel was a slight fluttering in his stomach. Sometimes he fancied that it was like what pregnant women felt when their babies moved. But not often. They weren’t often this calm. 

____________________________

 

9:57 pm.

Ben was bored as he watched the city roll by outside the car windows. He tried not to let himself be nervous, which was easy with a book, but boring without. When he got too nervous and worked up They got worked up which made it far more difficult to control them. They’d been getting more and more difficult to control in recent months. The pain of releasing them was getting worse, so he kept them in for longer periods of time. When he was younger he had let them out just to watch them, normally just before bed, before Sir Reginald turned on the cameras to watch them. He didn’t do that anymore. They got antsy when They were cooped up for too long.

Luther was muttering something to himself under his breath. It was starting to get on Ben’s nerves. He jiggled his foot up and down but stopped when They copied the motion and a wave of nausea rolled over him. He hated it when they poked and prodded at his organs; they’d broken his ribs more than once and even his pelvis once. He’d collapsed in the middle of the street on his way to a local bookshop. The doctors at the hospital were very concerned to see injuries that looked exactly like what a pregnant woman would present with.

1:35 am.

Ben was covered in thick red blood, his feet sliding on the slick floor as he ran toward where the hostages cowered before the final three gunmen. Luther was hitting them and doing his normal ‘Luther’ thing. The hostages were safe for the moment. 

Ben skidded and landed face first on the marble floor. He tried to push himself up but his hands slipped on the floor. He finally got his hands under him, breath heaving, and he looked up. 

There was another gunman a good ten metres behind Luther. He hadn’t noticed him yet- he was still dealing with the other gunmen. 

This man was barely five metres from Ben. 

10:09 pm. 

Hostages were being held at a big-shot lawyer’s office where a party had been held. 8 men wielding guns. Easy enough for the two most powerful members’ of the Umbrella Academy. Ben balled his fists in his jacket pocket. He was glad that Reginald had relented and allowed him to wear his own outfits on missions- only because a hoodie and t-shirt allowed him easier access to Them than the ridiculous rip-up tracksuit he’d previously worn. His leather jacket felt like an extra layer of protection between Them and the outside. 

Luther lead the way inside, then motioned for Ben to sneak around the other way. Ben did as he was told, living up to his ‘good little Number Six’ brand. 

2.27 am.

He was floating. He was free. He’d never felt this light in his life. There was nothing sharing his body to weigh him down.

They were all around him, revelling in **MEATMEATHUMANMEATFREELOOSEMEATHUNGRYFREEMEATBLOODFREE**  
Their feelings flooded through him, filling him with exhilaration. 

Stars bloomed in the sky visible through the stained glass skylight. Stars were unusual in the city- too much light pollution. He loved the stars. Somewhere, deep inside he was afraid. 

12:21 am.

Four of the gunmen were dead; four left. Ben’s breath came hard and fast as he threw a gun away from the scrabbling hands of a man barely five years older than him. His eyes stared up at him in fear. “Please...please...please. Don’t kill me…” He whimpered. 

Ben could only shake his head as he pulled up his hoodie and t-shirt. 

3:01 am. 

Something was wrong. He could tell there was nothing alive in the room. There was only blood on the air, dead, oxidising blood. Cooling blood. Cold blood. There was no   
**ALIVEHUMANWARMMEATFOODHUMANMEATFOODSMALLVUNERABLE** in the air. He wanted to feel the tendons pull apart from skin and fat. 

They wanted the taste of soft-spongy lungs, deep acidic intestines and rich thick muscles. 

He wanted to feel the life leak from something. Anything. 

They didn’t want to go back to **DARKHUNGRYINHUMANINMEATHUNGRYPAINDARKCRAMPED**. He didn’t want to go back. They wanted to be free.

He wanted to be free. Free of **MEATPAINHUMANDEATHBREATHBLOODFRAGILESORROWPAIN**

Free… 

 

3:34 am. 

They had been desperate to get free. They had torn at him to be free. And they’d almost made it. But. Something had snapped. Like a rubber band. A rubber band inside him.

They were shrieking. 

His ears were ringing. Pain. His head pounded and thundered and throbbed and hurt…

They shrieked and wailed and strained but they couldn’t reach far enough. They snapped, like the rubber band in him. 

 

3:52 am. 

He could fear something tearing beneath his suckers. 

Skin layers came apart like tissue paper. Skin peeled away from fat. Fat then slid away from muscle. Muscle wrenched from bone. Bone shattered beneath his (Their) strength. 

They revealed in the small mouthfuls of blood. Coppery, tangy, rich, hot blood. 

They shrieked again as they could feel the gate shutting around them. The gate pulling them back. 

4:11 am. 

Ben is alone in his own head again. His head which...hurts. Pain rippled and rolled over him in waves. 

Luther is there, saying something which he can’t hear. The whites of his eyes are very wide. Like looking at the moon. Luther loved the moon. Perhaps too much. Ben was afraid that someday Luther would go to the moon, that he would love it so much that he wouldn’t come back. 

Something is pressing down on him which makes him want to scream, writhe and yell, but all that comes out of his mouth is a gurgle. 

A detached part of him had known that that wasn't good. 

He’s being lifted now, away from the pressure, but not away from the pain.

4:27 am.

Ben is on the floor again. But this time he can see the familiar patterns and shapes of the entrance hall of the Academy. 

Klaus is there, gripping his hand. Dear Klaus, sweet Klaus. His poor, fucked up brother, whom he loves with all his heart (too much sometimes, he knows). Klaus who was on the downward spiral from weed into the harder pills that Ben knew he bought once in a while. Once in a while was quickly going to become all the time. Ben didn’t want Klaus to leave him for the drugs. 

Diego flickered in and out of his peripheral vision. Diego, bitter and melancholy and so desperate to help everyone. So desperate that he put others before himself. Ben didn’t want Diego to leave him because he’d been too busy protecting others to protect himself. 

Mom, her soft hands in his hair. A calm smile. Reassuring gestures. 

Then. Freedom. 

 

__________________________________

 

Ben wanted to cry. He’d felt such relief when he’d realised that he was dying. That soon he’d be free from the pain. But now he was confused and filled with shame that had wished for that release. He would have left his siblings behind. The six lights in his life. The six people who he desperately hoped never left him. The ones he’d wanted to leave behind. 

Suicide had never been far from his mind over the past year. Some would call it teenage angst. Ben would call it a last resort if They got out of control. He knew They would eventually. Every time Klaus brought something home stronger than weed, Ben would steal some. Half a pill here, a pinch of powder there. It all sat in a locked box under his bed. Sometimes he would steal Vanya’s pills too. He knew that mixing medications like that would probably kill him faster. He took Five’s booze when he wasn’t looking. He stole Diego’s knives every once in a while. Small, sharp ones. They sat in the box under his bed too. 

Those weren’t for killing though, those were just for pain. They didn’t like pain, They shrank away from it when They weren’t causing it. Ben was pretty sure that They could feel his pain. It was the easiest way to keep them from coming out. Ben was glad that Mom didn’t tell Sir Reginald about all their injuries. He’d given up on that when Klaus went through a craft stage and sliced his fingers on scalpels and paper cutting tools every few hours. 

But Ben really didn’t want to die now. He’d been so close and he’d been so scared when he could think clearly. He promised himself that during the physical healing process he’d try to heal mentally too. Hopefully. 

He dashed away tears furiously with his right hand, his _intact_ hand. He didn’t want to cry. He’d had enough of his emotions ruling him that night. 

There was a flash of blue, ad Five popped into the room. Ben peered at him through the gloom. Five was weirdly tense, he could tell. 

“Five,” He croaked, then coughed to clear his throat. “What’s going on?” 

Five approached him slowly. He stood at Ben’s right side- his good side. He carefully skimmed his fingers against Ben’s arm, then withdrew. Five didn’t like contact, Ben was grateful for that small gesture regardless, despite how much he craved contact with something alive.

“Father told us something. About why you are-” He swallowed thickly. “About why you’re still alive.” 

Ben closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath. He opened them again and gestured for Five to continue. 

“Well, it’s something that we all need to discuss together. I’ll go and tell the others you’re awake.”

And he was gone again. 

Ben shrank in on himself. He didn’t want to be left alone again. He was scared that he would lose control again. when Five had been there he hadn’t realised how alone he’d felt with only the dark, the beep of the heart rate monitor and the rasp of his oxygen mask to keep him company. He’d even started to miss Them, if only for some company. 

Luckily though, it only took a minute before he heard the others scampering down the corridor. When they entered the room, some of the tension drained from his aching limbs. He hadn’t known how tense he was either. 

Klaus took his earlier position on the bed, gripping Ben’s hand tightly. Vanya stood, eyes wide to his left. Her hand settled on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, just above the bandaged stump of his arm Ben turned his head to her and smiled tiredly. The smile she returned was small and slightly frightened. Five settled next to her, gripping the bed rail with white knuckles. Luther, Allison and Diego completed the ring. 

“Dear old Dad has told us why we have our powers, Benny-boy.” Klaus’ voice was soft. His hands were warm against his own. Ben loved that warmth. He always felt so cold.

“It turns out that we are- of all things- gods. Trapped. In human form.” Five supplied; his usual snarky tone wobbling a bit. 

Ben didn’t know how to process that information. After everything…

“Apparently you are Yama, a Buddhist/Hindu god, who’s in charge of a hell dimension. It’s where They come from” Vanya added. 

Ben still didn’t know what to do with that information. Suddenly, tiredness washed over. Of all the times… He was asleep before he had been able to form a reply to Vanya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Seriously guys, over 300 hits in 3 days? This is insane, best birthday present ever! (Apart from my new octopus flowerpot which is adorable)
> 
> I was really gonna post this earlier but everything was really hectic today. So this morning my aunt and uncle (father's sister and husband) dropped in whilst travelling across the country with my baby cousin and their dog in tow. Then they left and we went out for lunch with my grandparents and then my uncle (father's brother) shows up out of the blue from France! Then my sister's godmother, her husband, two kids and their dog come over for afternoon tea (long story short I promised a seven-year-old that she could come to my birthday and I couldn't break that promise). People only left about six and then I had an unintended nap (conveniently missing all the tiding up)


	5. In which Five does what he does best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Five does what he does he does best; ie jumping and research. Ben gets a bit of recovery time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there are any triggers in this one but update me if I'm wrong. So this is basically filler and was gonna be two chapters, but eh... I've got an exam tomorrow and I won't be updating

After Ben had fallen asleep, everyone had decided to retreat to bed to try and deal with what had happened over the past 24 hours. 

Five had been trying to sleep for several hours but had been getting nowhere, as per usual. Insomnia was his frequent companion. 

_If I can’t sleep, I might as well get something useful done._

With a thought he was in the library, a torch wedged between his teeth. He scanned the shelves, looking for any books that looked like they might have any more useful information in them than the mesly paragraph that the encyclopedia had contained. Five had no idea what they were going to do about the fact that they were gods. All he knew was that it was always a good idea to have as much information as possible. 

He grunted in frustration as his search turned up a battered copy of the Metamorphosis and nothing else. He’d read it when he was eight, thanks to his father’s appreciation for the traditional Classical education. He needed something more concrete than a book of myths for children. 

Sighing, he flashed away and into the library of the university on the other side of the city. Ever since he was six, he’d been roaming its bookshelves at night when he couldn’t sleep. Missing books were rarely noticed and there were always comfy spots to curl up and read. And the university had subscriptions to all the journals that he couldn’t persuade his father to buy for him. And the vending machines were always full of coffee. 

It took him a while longer than normal to find the right section of the library- theology, history and archaeology weren’t often his port-of-call. He pulled worn fabric bound tome after tome of the shelves, flicking through the indexes, then either reshelving them in frustration or dropping them onto the growing pile of potential books. 

It was easy enough to find information on Aphrodite and Athena, as expected. Tyr took a little digging but the Victorian penchant for romanticising ancient civilisations and the flurry of later historians to try and rectify the utter bollocks spread was surprisingly useful. Zorya was a tad more difficult, but once he found a section in Polish it was far easier; Father had insisted that they learn as many languages as possible, all the better to talk to frightened hostages and tourists they’d always supposed. Kernunnos joined soon after, with several books about horned gods in general and surprisingly, the Greek god Pan who seemed to be similar in origin and was much more widely studied. 

But as dawn had started to lighten the sky he had found absolutely nothing of any worth about Atlahua and Yama. All he could find were small sections of books that contained little more information than the encyclopedia had.  
He squinted out of a window and decided that he’d have enough time to have a quick poke around in the journals before the eager students arrived. It took him three jumps to carry all his books down to the basement and then to stow them in a dark corner. He clenched his fists when he noticed his hands shaking. He’d been jumping about all night, trying to avoid the night owl students and truth be told he was exhausted. 

His search of the journals had managed to scrounge up four articles, all but one had been written in the first half of the 20th century and the last in the 1860s. Not very up to date, but it’d have to do he supposed. 

Several more jumps later and he was exhausted, despite the amount of coffee he had consumed overnight, and slumped onto his bed in exhaustion. He passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

_________________________________

The next day passed by agonisinly slowly. Father treated it like an ordinary Wednesday; meaning lessons in the morning, group training after lunch, Allison’s private training after that and silent study for the rest. Luckily Pogo turned a blind eye to the fact that Five was not, in fact, researching his essay on the Cold War (set that last weekend, it had been almost distressingly easy). 

He’d decided to get stuck in researching Zorya first. Polish was a language Pogo didn’t speak, so it's easiest to hide from him whilst working in full view of him. There was no other reason, absolutely not. (The way that Vanya smiled at him when she realised what he was working on had nothing to do with it, but he’d enjoyed the feeling nonetheless). 

He scribbled furiously on two notepads simultaneously, using his right hand to turn the page every so often. He was starting to admit to himself that tracking the routes of ancient gods like this was more interesting than he had previously thought. The changes were logical and predictable, and he was beginning to spot patterns in how the gods interacted and how they related to older gods. (It had nothing on the true beauty of maths and physics though; humans could be surprisingly unpredictable at times in a way that the universe never was). 

Klaus nearly fidgeting off of his chair every few minutes was incredibly distracting, however. Five could smell the weed from where he sat behind him, but it was doing nothing to calm him down. Five could understand that he was anxious for Ben; they all were. But for gods’ sake! Could he never sit still? 

Grace popped her head around the door, and Pogo limped after her, as fast as his bowed legs could carry him. Five took his chance.

“Diego. Stop Klaus from jittering before I main him.” He snapped, a wicked grin on his face that promised bad things. Klaus sent him a look of apology before his leg started jittering again. He mumbled something about ghosts under his breath. 

“What the f-fuck do y-you want me t-to do ab-about it?” Diego snapped back, scowling. 

“Whatever. Just stop him.” Five narrowed his eyes and stood, gathering the book up. He could quite easily nock Klaus out with it. It wouldn’t put him down for more than a few seconds but it might be enough for him to be sent to the infirmary to see Ben or at least to his room where he wouldn’t disturb anyone. 

“Five!” Vanya hissed. She never approved when he used violence, regardless of whether or not it achieved their goals easiest. 

Diego rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back from the table. Klaus took the invitation and sat on his lap. He fiddled with Diego’s shirt, but at least that was quiet and Five could get back to his research in peace. 

By dinner, he had a comprehensive understanding of Slavic mythology and had learnt as much as he thought he was able about Zorya. What had him stumped was why Vanya didn’t have powers. They’d all wondered about it in the past, but none more so (excepting Vanya herself) than Five. It didn’t make any logical sense. And now that they knew they were divine… Why wasn’t there any manifestation of it? Energy manipulation seemed the most likely, probably something to do with light based on who she was… 

He sat next to Luther and ate robotically, not tasting the food, allowing his mind to leap around in all directions. Honestly, he wanted Ben’s opinion on it all. Ben had always been a close second in terms of brains to Five, although his prowess lent further towards literature than maths. This would really be his area of expertise. He wanted dinner to hurry up and be over so he could go down and ask him. 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

Ben had woken up in pain. He felt like someone had tried to pull him apart slowly. Cold sweat had drenched him, and his blanket, which Klaus had tucked carefully around him last night, was crumpled on the opposite side of the room. He was grateful that he didn’t remember his dream- no doubt they’d been nightmares. 

“Good morning dear. Did you sleep well?” Grace greeted cheerfully as she entered the infirmary. She carried a glass of water with her, which she set down on the side table. 

“Hurts,” he rasped, too exhausted to be as articulate as he normally would be. 

Grace made a sympathetic noise and checked the IV. She injected something into it and Ben felt something cool enter his arm, soothing the pain back into an ache. She then checked the drains from his limbs and the urinary catheter, murmuring what she was doing the whole time. 

“Let’s sit you up a little, so you can have a drink. Then I will check your wounds and change the bandages, alright?” Grace asked smiling sweetly. Ben nodded. Grace took the remote in perfectly manicured hands.  
“This might hurt a little, sweetie, ok?” Ben nodded again. The feeling of sitting up but not actively trying was rather weird. Grace held the water glass up to his face so that he could drink from the straw. 

“Little sips,” she murmured, “we wouldn’t want you being sick.” 

It was one of the best things he had ever tasted. 

“I’m going to have a look at your wounds now, sweetie. You might want to look away for a bit. But first I’m going to have to lean you forward so I can take the bandages off properly. I’m afraid it’s going to hurt a bit, ok sweetie?” 

Ben nodded again. Grace sat next to him on the bed and lifted him so he was leaning against her. Tears slipped from his eyes at the pain and he whimpered slightly. Grace hushed him then set him back gently against the bed. 

“There, it’s over now.” She assured him while caressing his hair, smiling kindly. She stood up off the bed, then removed the bandages from his abdomen. Curiosity got the better of him and Ben gaped down at his bare chest. 

Huge gashes littered his abdomen, curling around his sides and out of sight. There was barely a square inch left untouched. It looked like he had been pulled apart and been sewn together again, like a patchwork doll. It was a wonder that he was still alive. 

Grace skimmed her hands over the wounds with a feather-light touch, humming in satisfaction when she found no signs of infection.  
“How do your ribs feel?” She asked as she rebandaged him. 

Ben felt confused, what had happened to his ribs? They weren’t painful, but then again, when he had been in pain it had been coming from so many sources it had been almost impossible to sort one pain from another. Now that he wasn’t in pain, he couldn’t feel anything. “What happened to them?” He asked, his voice sounding stronger now that he had drunk something.

“You have a few broken ribs, sweetie. If you can’t tell then they are probably fine for the moment.” Grace replied softly. She retrieved his blanket and tucked him back up. 

“Your father has set up an appointment with a prosthetist from MeriTech who will be coming over for 2:30 pm. She will be able to talk to you about getting prosthesis fitted. Your father has assured that you will receive the best that money can buy. She has even promised that you two can talk about some things that aren’t available to the general public yet. Isn’t that kind of her? But for now, get some rest sweetie.” Grace smoothed his hair away from his forehead then left.

 _The best that money can buy? He isn’t doing it to be nice, he’s doing it so that he can get me back to where I was before as much as possible. But maybe Klaus was right, I could get something cool. At least maybe once I move out and have my own money._

____________________________________

Ben dozed on and off for the rest of the morning. Grace woke him after lunch and coaxed a bit of plain bread into him. She then sprayed some dry shampoo into his hair and combed it through gently. She offered him a packet of baby-wipes which he used as best he could. The feeling of being mostly-clean was enough to make him feel a bit more human and far more awake, so he allowed Grace to feed him a bit more bread, regardless of the fact that it made him feel sick. She then left him with a bowl of ice cubes and a book held open by a book stand so she could make lunch for everyone else. 

The prosthetist turned up at exactly 2:30 pm sharp, as Grace promised she would. She was a tall Indian lady with a no-nonsense air but laughter lines around her eyes. Sir Reginald entered behind her and positioned himself smartly by the end of the bed. Ben could feel the disapproval coming off him in waves. She sat down on a chair placed by Grace not long before.

“I am Dr Gupta, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” She said, offering a hand to him. He carefully took it. 

“Ben Hargreaves.” 

Dr Gupta nodded. “I understand that you were in an accident recently, is that correct?” 

Ben nodded.  
“Good. I’m going to ask you a few questions about your lifestyle so I can recommend a few different types of mechanisms that we can look into. There are over 100 different types of knee joint in manufacture alone, so I’ll need to know as much as possible so we can get the right fit for you.” Dr Gupta explained. 

Ben’s eyes widened, he’d just thought that she’d stick a leg on him and see if it fits or not. 

“Now, Ben, you do realise that this is going to be a lot of hard work on your end, especially with the extent of your injuries. You will probably never regain the ease of movement you originally had.” 

That statement earned him a seething glare from Sir Reginald as if he had maimed himself on purpose. 

“However, there’s no reason why you can’t live life to the full. Prosthetics is a hugely developing field, with massive improvements made in the last few years alone. At MeriTech, we pride ourself on being the forefront of the field with technologies not seen elsewhere. Did you know that we have developed prosthetic arms which can move with the electrical currents in your skin?” 

Ben shook his head, eyes slightly wide. Dr Gupta continued explaining the types of prosthetics to him while Sir Reginald hovered like a disapproving ghost. Whenever Dr Gupta asked Ben to make a decision on any feature he interrupted with his preferred choice. Each decision was made to get Ben back into crime-fighting shape as quickly as possible. 

After she left Ben was exhausted, he fell asleep before Sir Reginald had even left the room. As he was dreaming he felt something stir within him, as if some part of him had been stuck deep underwater and was only now reaching the surface. Something stretched and then curled back into itself, contented and warm, and Ben slept deeper than he had in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, prosthetics. I did a bit of research and wrote half of Ben's bit when I remembered that this is set in 2006 and wouldn't have the same tech level as today. However, my mum works for a lab that develops various tech and she informs me that a load of the tech we have now is actually several decades old; it's just about lowering the cost of development for a consumer market which takes a while. Like, some of the people there came to my school when I was about 14 and brought some stuff with them; there were some t-shirts made out of a material that just allows water to roll off of it that's gonna be used to develop military gear and stuff like that. And that was the stuff they allowed us to see. So, with enough money, I'd say that you could probably get prosthetics at today's level in the early 2000s. Because Reginald will never be content to allow Ben to have proper time to rest, heal and take it slow.
> 
> If anyone recognises the M.I.High reference, you're my kinda peep! (For those who don't know what M.I.High was a tv show on the kids BBC channel about spies in a secondary school. It was my jam when I was 8-11).
> 
> I'm super stressed about my exam tomorrow and murder is on my mind (i's a forensics exam) so I wanted to add this slightly less angsty chapter to help ease my mind a bit. Also, so that we can get onto the plot which is coming up in the next few chapters, which is gonna be good I promise. 
> 
> Also, I had an idea for a Daemon!AU (if you haven't read Hazy Shade of Winter you should go do that, it's the only daemon fic here yet) if you guys would like to see that then I'd be more than happy to write it!


	6. In which a mission doesn't quite go to plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a mission doesn't quite go to plan. 
> 
> You will probably hate me for this chapter but it is entirely necessary for a plot point that you will like me again for further down the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING- graphic violence, extremely graphic description of wounds and the aftermath of said wounds, vomiting, blood, gore

Diego woke to the mission alarm blaring. He peered blearily at his alarm clock- 10:34 pm. (He realises that going to sleep before 10 pm isn’t normal teenage behaviour but after the crazy past few days and still having to wake up at 5.30 am to spar with Luther he’s almost constantly exhausted and he’d just wanted _one_ good night’s sleep. 

He rolled himself off the bed, landing in a crouch. He reached for his mission uniform, which he stashed under his bed for convenience. It was a god-awful zip-up tracksuit. Sighing through his nose, he pulled it on. Combat boots next. Then his gloves. Then lastly his Harness. Klaus loved to tease him that it looked like a sex harness. In actuality, he had pilfered some of the parts from the trash of a company that did make sex harnesses, but they mainly made custom belts and bags. It wasn’t his fault that knife harnesses weren’t a common item. Or that the company used actual good quality leather that didn’t fall apart after several missions. It also added to his image. Luther was blessed with his all-American good looks, so he leant into his more brooding sex-appeal image. He certainly got enough positive attention from the fans for it. He also got his nipple pierced recently to go with the look. Not that he’d tell Klaus that. 

One by one he slid his knives into the harness and into the hidden pockets in his uniform. All in all, he had about 30 on his person. Pausing in front of his mirror, he ran a comb through his hair, then secured his domino mask onto his face. 

He dashed out of his room and down the corridor, skidding into place next to Luther in the entrance hall. Sir Reginald stood with his pocket watch out timing their arrival. Klaus is the last to fall into line with two seconds to spare of their 3-minute target. Sir Reginald shuts his watch with a snap and leads them to the car silently. 

Once they’re all seated and belted, he pulls the car out of the garage and onto the dark road. 

“There has been a terrorist attack during an awards show. A bomb went off outside the front entrance trapping many very important people inside with the gunmen, including the mayor and the senator. Your task will be to get inside and to protect the hostages while the army, police and specialists deal with the gunmen. With the potential for further bombs and the unfortunate absence of Number Six you will be taking a defensive role in this situation.” Sir Reginald informed them. 

_‘I’m glad that Vanya has been left at home’ _Allison signed next to him. Five nodded grimly. None of them wanted their tiny sister anywhere near a situation like this, regardless of divinity.__

__The wailing of sirens and people screaming got louder the closer they got to the scene. Sir Reginald pulled the car over on a road blocked off by police cars. They jogged up to the barrier. The police on duty let them through reluctantly. They got as close to the building as they could without being in sight of the gunmen who were perched upon the rubble, holding guns of varying sizes. Luther spotted a large truck on its side and lead them over.  
They crouched down behind it. “Five, take Diego in first, then me, then Allison. Get Klaus last, ok?” Luther instructed them. Five nodded, his face grim, and gripped Diego hard by the arm. Diego takes a deep breath, preparing himself as best he could for the jump. There was a flash of blue and then he’s crouched beneath a table, scared people blinking widely at him. There’s another flash of blue and Five disappeared. _ _

__“How many gunmen are there in here?” He asked quietly and calmly. A woman in a bright red dress burst into noisy tears. He grabbed her, placing a hand over her mouth to quiet her, grimacing internally as her tears and a dribble of snot dampened his gloves. “Hush, please. I am The Kraken, from the Umbrella Academy. There are police and soldiers outside working to get you out, while we keep you safe in here. Alright?”_ _

__The woman nodded to him, dark eyes wet. The old man crouched beside her pulled her into a hug. “I counted at least 20. All have AK-47s. I think there are more surrounding the room.” Diego nodded sharply. “I served in Vietnam. The name’s Dave, this is my daughter Sophia. She normally loves you guys. If you get the time later, would you sign something for her?” Diego hesitated, then pulled a pen from his belt pouch. He grabbed a napkin off of the floor and signed it with a message for her to keep calm and to be brave. She took it and smiled at him, tears drying up. He nods at them again and scooted out from under the table to scan the room._ _

__A man stood behind the next table over, his back to Diego. He watched for a moment, hyper-aware of his exposed position. The man shifted, looking under one of the tables that Diego couldn’t see. In a snap decision, he crawled across the floor under the next table. The tablecloth muffled the sounds of the room slightly and cut off almost all the light. He shifted into a crouch, a long knife clenched in his hand._ _

__Light spilt into the tiny space and Diego’s gaze met the gunman’s. Before he could make a sound, Diego launches forward and slipped the knife into the man’s carotid. He falls to the floor without a sound, and Diego pulled him under the table. Taking another chance, he slipped back out and scanned the room again._ _

__The gunmen had the hostages lined up against the far wall. One man was on his knees- Diego recognised him as the senator- before a man with a black mask over his nose and mouth with a grinning mouth full of jagged teeth printed on it. He pulled what looked like an axe from his belt and held it high._ _

__Diego didn’t think, he just threw the knife that he was in his hand, hoping that it would hit the man before he managed to behead the senator. The masked man yelled and dropped the axe as a knife appeared through his hand. Satisfied, Diego threw another knife which found a home in the man’s neck. A handful of knives were in the air heading toward the other gunmen surrounding the hostages before he even hit the floor._ _

__“Room secure!” Luther bellowed drawing the attention of the 12 gunmen left alive in the room. Diego threw himself to his feet and launched himself toward a man who’d been taking aim at his brother. They toppled to the ground. Diego let out a grunt as the man punched him in the side. He punched the man in the face, knocking the mask askew and causing blood to spurt from his nose. Diego raised a knife but the man beneath him managed to get his hands around his throat. He used the leverage to flip them over. Diego’s vision started to grey as he punched ineffectively at the man above him._ _

__Black dots filled his vision and he tries one last time to stab the man. He could feel the knife catch on something, but he couldn’t tell whether or not he’d managed to get flesh or fabric._ _

__“I heard a rumour that you let my brother go!” Allison yelled at him. Diego gasped for breath as the weight fell away from his chest. Allison reached down and helped him up. He nodded at her and waved her away. Allison nodded and darted off._ _

__There were two gunmen closing in on Luther, and Diego rushed over to join the fray. His breath was coming in strained wheezes, but he carried on regardless. Eventually, the two men fell, one with his head bashed in, the other with a knife sticking out of his chest. The room fell quiet then._ _

__Turning slowly, Diego let out a relieved breath to see that there were no more gunmen in the room. Slow and aching he made his way over to where Klaus sat with the hostages. He was keeping them as calm as he could by telling jokes and babbling a dime-a-dozen about nothing and everything._ _

__When he was closer, he noticed that Sophia was still holding the napkin, although now it had Klaus’ almost illegible writing scribbled on it too. He set a hand on his brother’s shoulder._ _

__“Oh hey bro, I was just talking to Davey here!” Klaus grinned, sending the man in question an awed look. “Good, you’re doing a great job. Keep them here while I go and meet up with the others. We’ll move the bodies out of the way and secure the room further.” Klaus nodded distractedly and waved him off._ _

__Diego jogged over to where Luther was heaving an overturned piano in front of the doors. “Everyone ok?” He asked. Luther nodded._ _

__“Five’s jumped back out again with the senator to inform the police that the hostages are safe for now, but he’s almost out of jumps, so we might be here a while.” He told Diego, as Diego lifted a pile of chairs on top of the piano, and used their metal legs to wedge through the door handles. Luther bent them into knots so the doors couldn’t be opened. Diego piled the rest of the chairs up against the door._ _

__He turned, about to jump down off of the barricade when he sees the masked man twitch. He’s slumped about five metres from Klaus, who has his head thrown back in laughter._ _

__“Klaus!” He screamed, desperation audible in the single syllable._ _

__Klaus turned to look at him, his eyes widened when he saw the man reach for his gun, prop it against his shoulder and squeeze the trigger.  
Diego scrambled blindly across the room but stopped short when he saw the full extent of what happened. _ _

__Blood coated the wall behind Klaus._ _

__Blood coated Dave and Sophia._ _

__Blood coated Allison who had turned to reach for Klaus._ _

__Diego dropped to his knees and vomited and kept vomiting until he was bringing up small flecks of dark bile, stomach spasming painfully._ _

__Klaus had no head left._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit you guys, we're nearing 700 hits! For someone who got 150ish hits on my last fic over its total run, this is a huge step up for me and we're only partway through the first arc! When I saw that I realised that I had to post this tonight. I almost wasn't going to because I went to my first extinction rebellion meeting tonight and was gonna go to ballet but then I got a migraine from the heat/dehydration (global warming sucks peeps, it should be raining in may here. We haven't had a good rain for weeks) and was gonna just fall asleep but here's an extra special angsty gift for you. 
> 
> I do realise that what happened to Klaus may sound extreme but as a forensics student, they show us the really graphic images of what people actually look like when shot at point blank range with high powered guns. Not pretty. People have a green light to walk out of lectures if they need to and I have at least once. Be glad that Hollywood sanitises a lot of stuff. Because the Umbrella Academy would probably not made it past the first episode with that Five/ Commission gun battle. Let's just say that Griddy's wouldn't have been able to open for probably the next week. 
> 
> Oh and lastly look up David Castenada nipple ring. Ohmygod- my brain short-circuited- I may be on the lesbian/ female presenting side of pan but goodness that man is sexy. At 17 I think it would be entirely appropriate for Diego to be thinking of his own sex appeal- probably enough to get over his fear of needles at least enough to get one piercing. And seriously, where the hell did he get that harness if not from someone who normally makes harnesses like that for other purposes?


	7. In which Allison takes care of her hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Allison takes care of her hair and recent events are beginning to be processed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING- graphic gore, suicidal ideation, panic attacks, vomiting

Allison sat and stared at what used to be Klaus in shock. Diego had vomited and passed out at the sight. But Allison just couldn’t move. First Ben and now Klaus… 

She could feel his blood and- _brains_ drying on her face and skin. 

“-Allison, are you Ok? What’s happened to Diego? Where’s Klaus?” Luther was shaking her shoulder hard. She had the distinct feeling that he might have been talking to her for a while. She blinks at him wondering what to say. She points a trembling finger at the body. “Klaus.” 

“Klaus what? Oh-” Luther made a strangled wailing sound when he noticed the familiar umbrella tattoo on the mangled corpse. He slumped onto his knees next to Allison, big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Allison noticed Diego’s fingers begin to twitch. Slowly she crawled over to him and pulled his limp body onto her lap, cradling him like a doll. He woke slowly in her arms. He struggled for a moment then buried his head into her belly, sobs wracking his body. She strokes his hair shushing him like a child, rocking backwards and forward gently. 

There was shouting behind the door and the party guests ran over and started to dismantle the barricade. 

Allison ignored them, entirely focused on the crying boy in her lap. Strong arms wrapped around her back and she could feel tears dampening her hair. Her own eyes began to water and suddenly she was crying too. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!” FIve was crying desperately. He was holding what was left of Klaus, expression distraught. 

_I can’t remember when I last saw Five cry._ Allison thought dully. 

People had started to swarm into the room, including Sir Reginald. He stopped when he reached Five. He gave Klaus’ body a single glance then turned and walked away. 

Five made a feral noise. He carefully placed the body on the floor. He flashed into Sir Reginald’s path. 

“This is your fault!” He hissed, eyes narrowed to slits. Sir Reginald just side stepped him and continued walking. Five lost it. He launched himself at Sir Reginald with a roar, punching and kicking out at him. 

A passing police officer caught him then immediately lost his grip enabling Five to wriggle free. It took four officers to restrain him. He only stopped when he saw a paramedic kneel down next to Klaus. She shook her head to her partner, who nodded and grabbed a stretcher and handed something white to her. She moved Klaus into the body bag and onto the stretcher.

“Hey kids, are you ok?” A kind-looking woman had crouched down next to them. Wordlessly Allison shook her head. Luther let her go to stand up. The woman helped Diego to his feet. Allison stood with them and let herself be guided out of the room and to a waiting ambulance. She was given a blanket and a cup of something hot. She sat staring into the brown liquid unable to think or feel. She was just...Blank. 

A microphone was thrust into her face. “Rumor, where are The Seance and The Horror? What happened here tonight?-”

“He’s dead,” she mumbled. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” A second voice asked. 

“My brother, The Seance. He’s-” she swallowed a sob. “He’s dead.” 

“What do you mean?” A third voice. 

“What do I mean?” She asked, standing. “I mean that he’s dead! I saw him be shot! I saw his head explode! This blood? It’s his! I HAVE HIS BRAIN ON MY FACE!” Her throat hurt. 

The reporters looked horrified, backing away from her slowly. She slumped back down into the ambulance as if she were a puppet with her strings cut. 

_________________________________________________________________________

 

Allison sat between Diego and Luther during the ride home. Both brothers clutched her hands hard, hard enough to hurt. Five sat opposite her, their feet touching. It was just the four of them. One of their brothers was dead. The other horrifically injured. 

“Ben!” She blurted. “How do we tell Ben?” 

“I-I-I-I-I’ll t-t-t-tell hi-i-i-m,” Diego stuttered, furiously trying to spit the words out.

“No. We do it together.” Five replied. Luther nodded, a few more tears dribbling down his cheeks. 

They were quiet for the rest of the drive, each one letting out a residual sob or sniffle every now and again. Rich, warm orange lights lit up the car every few seconds. Snatches of laughter and loud voices filled the car as it drove past clubs and bar, theatres and restaurants. A square with billboards that showed the news had Klaus’ grinning face plastered all over it. 

Hand in hand the four Hargreeves siblings entered the mansion. One, Two, Three and Five. Six and Seven sat close to each other, looking sleepy and confused.

 

“Ben, Vanya, something’s happened-” Luther began but was cut off by sobs. 

“Klaus is dead.” Allison finished. The blood on her face had hardened, it felt tight and itchy. She didn’t want to wash it away. It was all that she had left of her baby brother. Well, apart from the splatters of brain on her neck or the fragments of glistening white bone in her hair.

 

________________________________________________________________

Ben had been curled up asleep, finally back in his own bed when he heard the mission alarm go off. It felt so good to be able to turn over and go back to sleep. But try as he might, once he was awake, he couldn't go back to sleep. Despite still being on pain killers, his stumps ached and the stitches itched. If he rolled over too far onto his right, he ended up lying on the drain in his right leg which was uncomfortable, too far to his left and the drains for both his arm and his leg. On his back, he put pressure on the gashes where he was almost torn apart. He was really fed up with staying in bed. But what else could he do, he couldn't even leave his room on his own yet. The one-handed wheelchair was surprisingly easy to use, but he couldn't shift his entire weight on one arm like that without running the huge risk of falling on the floor. 

He labouriously levered himself into a seated position and flipped on the bedside lamp. He stared at the uneven stumps of his leg, catching the missing arm in his peripheral vision. Tears filled his eyes; he let them spill over and down his cheeks, sniffling slightly. What was he going to do now? He'd been trained as a soldier practically since birth and now he was effectively useless for at least another year, possibly longer. Every time he saw the man that raised him, he saw the disappointment in him. Seeking praise from Sir Reginald had been his goal since he had been adopted. And now, he wasn't sure that that could ever happen again. He was only part of the person he used to be. 

He wondered if he should get the box from under his bed, swallow all the tablets, go to sleep and not wake up again. It wouldn't hurt much and he'd be gone in an hour or two, maybe less. It would be easy, to begin with, and once it became more difficult to swallow, or when he ran out of water, he would be too high to notice it. 

But then he thought of Klaus, his annoying, hyper, sweet, kind older brother. He dealt with ghosts screaming at him 24/7, not particularly well, but he still coped. If Klaus could cope, then so could he. 

But if he died now, he'd be with Klaus again soon, unable to feel pain, physical or emotional. But what about the others? Luther had come to him privately, sobs wracking his large frame, begging him to forgive him. Vanya had been hugely shaken up by it, he could tell, she'd drawn into her shell even more over the past week, despite the revelation that she probably;y also had powers. Allison had spent hours reading to him, picking up where he'd last left off on his enormous pile of on-the-go books, despite not understanding most of the stories. She'd even started doing voices- not silly ones like Grace had when they were babies- giving the character's their own accents and countenances. Five had spent more time with him in the last week than he'd done in the past month, even sitting in and listening to Allison read. Diego had started doing little extra things for him, like picking him up a new book from the library or thrift shop every time he went out or getting him new bookmarks or spending most of his hoarded allowance on a walkman and audio books. He brought him new batteries every morning before breakfast. 

Thinking about everything his siblings had done for him in the past week decided his mind. They'd stepped up to look after him, he could step up and look after himself. He knew it was going to be hard work, but with his siblings by his side, he was as whole as he could ever be. He'd ask Grace to rearrange the appointment with the therapist to tomorrow in the morning. Sir Reginald had begrudgingly allowed Grace to arrange the appointment after he'd been reminded by Dr Gupta that individuals with amputated limbs had a much higher risk of depression, PTSD and suicide. Part of a soldier was better than no soldier at all. 

Ben reached under the bed, not for the box, but for his old stuffed bunny that he kept hidden under there. Taking a deep breath through the nose, he switched off the light and buried himself under the covers.

________________________________________________________

"Wha?" Ben slurred, eyes hardly open and drool still wet on his face. 

"Master Ben, I need to get you up and downstairs. Apparently, something has happened on the mission," Pogo informed him. Ben wiped the sleep from his eyes and let Pogo manoeuvre him into his wheelchair. Pogo tucked a blanket around his legs. "Perhaps you might want to keep a hold of that," Pogo added gently when Ben moved to tuck the bunny back under the bed. Confused, Ben did as he was told and hid the bunny under the blanket. 

Pogo pushed him to the entrance hall, where Vanya sat huddled on the bottom step, trying to stay awake but head drooping every few seconds. Pogo parked the wheelchair next to the stairs as the doors swung open. And Ben's world came crashing down

“Ben, Vanya, something’s happened-” Luther began but was cut off by sobs. 

“Klaus is dead.” Allison finished.

Vanya made a funny noise. 

Ben couldn't think, couldn't move, could barely breathe. 

"Mistress Allison is that brain-matter on your face?" Pogo asked, voice shaking. 

White-faced, she nodded. 

"Perhaps you might want to go and get clean?" He suggested gently, taking her hand in his. She nodded wordlessly. 

"I'll get Master Ben, then we should go to the main bathroom, all of us, shall we?" Again she nodded. 

Ben felt himself being pushed to the elevator, he didn't protest. They all crammed into the tiny cage. Pogo lead them to the main bathroom- one that was designed so that all 7 children could be washed and dressed in the same room. They'd taken to using smaller bathrooms later, but the big one was still used every now and again. 

Pogo parked Ben next to the radiator, then walked off, mumbling something about needing to talk to Grace and Sir Reginald. Allison let Vanya push her down on the edge of the bath. Luther found a face cloth and started to clean her up. Diego and Five stood there looking awkward. 

"Five?" Ben asked, voice rough, "there's a wooden box under my bed with blue marks on the lid. Can you hide it from me please." Though Five was visibly confused he did as he was asked. 

He flashed back and whispered something into Diego's ear. His eyes went wide, then his expression crumpled and he started to cry. He moved over to Ben wordlessly and enveloped him in a hug, squeezing hard, disregarding the pained gasp. "I won't ever let you go, do you hear me?" he whispered fiercely in Ben's ear, voice completely free from stuttering for once. it was a promise and a threat. Ben bowed his head and joined Diego in sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left you guys to wait for two- well, actually three by the time I post this- days on a giant cliff hanger- I feel super mean. My excuse is that I have another exam on Wednesday, and I couldn't get a doctor's appointment until Thursday so I'm having to ration my meds (which is a really, really bad idea, don't be stupid like me peeps) and I feel like shit most of the time atm and I have no motivation to write future chapters or rewrite the current chapter, as I am wont to do whilst posting. But, I had an amazing day with my step-grandmother today and finally got the motivation to get my arse in gear (I got new sparkly dms and a necklace with a mouse on a toadstool). But be warned that this is likely going to continue into the next week because once I've finished my exam and got more meds, I've got a dig to go two, god-siblings to babysit (is that what you call the kids of your sibling's god-mother?) and a protest to go to. So I might end up posting more, I might not, sorry


	8. In which Luther has a Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luther has a Moment and does what he should have done a good while ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, I have this thing where I really relate to Luther and still see him as a huge arsehole at the same time. I also have a brood of small siblings (well, in age only now really) that I'd do anything for, but I'm still always a breath away from strangling them. There are only so many times you can hear 'I'm bored' from a 10-year-old, list off about 10 options and for them to go 'no that's boring' and try to outsmart you so they don't have to do school work without going mad. So here you have my ode to siblings that you love to hate.

_“...I made you leader Number One…”_

Father’s voice was ringing in Luther’s ears when he woke. The red glowing numerals on his clock read 2:19 am; he’d barely been asleep for an hour. He rolled onto his back eyes trained on the ceiling. Constellations glowed in luminous paint; the stars picked out in small dots, their correlating patterns drawn neatly around them. Castor and Polydeuces gripped hands, grinning at each other. One was tall and wild-haired, the other tiny and neat. Orion held a knife above his head ready to throw, a second gripped in his other. Heracles was fending off an invisible attacker. Cassiopeia sat resplendent on her throne. Andromeda flourished her violin and bow- caught in the act of lowering the instrument. Perseus held a piece of chalk aloft, looking at the book in his other hand. 

The other constellations danced around them, picked out in glorious detail. Klaus had painted it for their fourteenth birthday. He’d slept in one of the empty rooms that had once been intended for another of the 43 for three weeks. 

A tear rolled down his cheek, dampening the pillow beneath his head. He scrubbed it away as he sat up. He flicked on his lamp and took his latest scrapbook from its cupboard in his bedside cabinet. Black sugar paper pages were neatly inked in silver gel pen. Every article and cutting was glued to white card and sat in little corner pockets. And it _was_ every article (not all were in this one particular scrapbook though); he had bought every magazine and newspaper that had published an article on them for as long as he could remember. He had secretly bartered book signings and hand made cards to the fans who could bring him the articles that had come out before he had been able to start collecting.

Mom had presented the first to him on his sixth birthday. It was a canvas hardback book, with silver gilt letters spelling Luther’s Scrapbook along the top with a galaxy underneath. It was where he got his fascination for space from. 

Broad fingers stroked a glossy magazine page. It had been printed the month before, they’d finally been allowed to be shown without their domino masks and modelled by the magazines' stylists. The photoshoot had taken hours, but watching the way his siblings had loved being dressed up and posing like models (especially Allison) had been worth the boredom many times over. Even Vanya had been allowed to participate, although she’d only got three pages of photos printed to her siblings six. 

Klaus and Ben grinned up at him, arms twined around each other, heads together white teeth on display. Ben had been styled in a black hoodie and leather jacket in that photo; he’d adored the outfit so much that Allison and Luther had exchanged a half an hour coffee date each with the editors teen daughters for it. 

Klaus wore a bright, loose t-shirt that hung off of one of his shoulders. Kohl had been smudged around his eyes and his nails had been professionally manicured. They glittered pink, purple and blue from their place on Ben’s shoulder. Klaus hadn’t bitten his nails at all until all the polish had grown off. 

Luther flipped over the page to a picture of them altogether. They looked genuinely happy; even Five had a cocky grin on his face (the photographer had loved his aloof stares and sceptically raised eyebrows, so any smile captured in those pages was genuine). Vanya’s smile had lit up the entire picture, absolutely delighted to be included for once. She had even followed the stylists’ advice and grown out her fringe afterwards.

It was so hard to believe that it had only been taken a month ago. Reconciling the happy teens with the mutilated boy and the headless corpse was mental gymnastics that Luther was unable to do. But he did know what he could do. 

He shrugged into his dressing gown and silently left the room. He descended the stairs and paused outside of his father’s office door. It took him a long moment to work up the courage to knock, but eventually, he did. 

“Enter.” Came the curt reply. 

Luther opened the door and slipped inside. He strode up to the desk and stood behind the waiting chair. 

“Number One. I assume you have a good reason for disturbing me so late.” Father observed him with a blank expression. 

“Yes sir,” Luther replied.

“Very well. Sit.” Father gestured for him to sit. Luther sat obediently, hands clasped tightly in his lap. 

“Father, you told me that we are supposed to stop the apocalypse one day once. Is that true?” 

“Of course it is Number One. You know that I do not lie.” Father frowned slightly at him. Luther nodded. 

“And you would count stopping the apocalypse as our main mission.”

“Exactly.” 

“So then you would agree that to stop the apocalypse that we must be the best team that we can be?” 

“Absolutely,” he confirmed, putting his pen down. Luther nodded again. He swallowed audibly. 

“We cannot be the best team that we can be if we have a compromised member.” 

“Absolutely not.”

Luther took a deep breath. “I do not think that you are making the best decisions for the long term. Your sending us out on missions that could have easily been handled by the police and security services has compromised two members of the team. We have trained for fourteen years as a team of six. It will take us many more years to return to the level of proficiency that we had achieved.” 

Father’s frown deepened. “That is of no consequence. There remains plenty of time to retrain before the apocalypse. Now-” 

“You told me that I am the leader of the team. That I am Number One.” Luther interrupted. 

“Yes,” Father replied, his anger now evident in his normally expressionless tone. 

“I am Number One. I am the leader of the team. It is my job to make sure that all members are ready and prepared for missions. I feel that I can no longer do my job with your presence.”

“Number One-”

“I want you to leave.” Luther met his father’s gaze dead on. 

“I want you to leave and not to return until the apocalypse. However long that may be. In the meantime, I will prepare the members of the Academy for that mission, as is my job. I want you to set up a monthly allowance that will keep the Academy running at its current capacity with the potential to do anything I deem necessary to prepare us for the mission. I want the legal capacity in which to do so- which would mean legal emancipation and the guardianship of my siblings. I also want the building of the Academy signed over to me so that I can do anything to it that I deem necessary. 

If you don’t comply with my wishes then the moment we turn eighteen, we will be gone. All of us. You will not see us ever again. We will not stop the apocalypse even if that results in our deaths. 

If you try to prevent this from happening in any way shape or form, I will kill you.” 

Not waiting for a reply, Luther stood and turned to leave. Pausing he turned around again and added, “I want you gone by the morning. And I want all legal documents delivered to me within the week.” He slipped out of the room before Father could say another word. 

He dashed back down the hall, up the stairs, and down the hall to his room. Ducking inside, he carefully shut the door. He leant back against it for a moment then let himself slide down onto the floor. He buried his face in his knees and started to sob. He’d betrayed Father. But Father had betrayed him first. Betrayed them all first, by sending them on the mission that got Ben hurt. By sending them on the mission that got Klaus killed. 

___________________________________________________________________

 

Ben sat huddled in his new one hand operated wheelchair, several layers of blankets swaddling him against the cold when Luther entered the kitchen. The others sat around the table, staring at the food on their plates- pancakes and bacon in happy smiles, something Mom had made to try and cheer them up. None of them was eating. Luther had made sure that he was the last person down so that he could check on everything before he told the others. 

Disregarding the chairs, he climbed onto the table, loving the tiny act of rebellion- he'd never sat on a table before. It groaned threateningly when he sat down too hard on it. That caught his siblings’ attention. 

“I have some news.” He told them softly. “It’s good news.” 

“How the fuck can you have good news?” Five demanded angrily, knife clenched in his fist in such a way Luther knew if the next words that came out of his mouth were wrong, would end up planted firmly in his eye. 

“I sent father away,” is all he said. 

“You did what?” Diego asked him slowly, not stuttering for once. His face was blanker than his domino mask.

“I went to talk to him last night. I told him to leave because he was compromising our ability to carry out our main mission- which actually is stopping the apocalypse.” He explained, sticking to the pure logical he'd constructed for Father. What he really wanted to say was _' I sent Father away because he was hurting my baby siblings and I couldn't bear it. I may not show it but Klaus is 1/6 of my world, he's the constellations in my sky, nothing makes sense without him. All I see without him is chaos. It's my fault that he died. My fault. If I had been paying better attention it wouldn't have happened. What happened to Ben was my fault too. I caused this and I_ have _to fix it. I wish that I hadn't and I wish that I'd done it sooner. I'm so confused, I don't want this, I want someone else to be Number One. I'd give anything for you to be Number One right now Diego.'_

“Why would you, Father’s golden boy do that?” Diego sneered.

“He killed Klaus. He almost killed Ben. I’m not letting him kill anyone else.” He brought out the tiny picture of Klaus he'd slipped from the scrapbook and cradled it like a baby.

The angry expression dropped off of both Five and Diego’s faces. Diego even looked like he was about to start crying.

“I know my reasoning- or at least the reasoning that I told him- is absolute bullshit. But, he’s gone. I told him to set up funds for us. I’m going to be emancipated from him and declared your legal guardian-” 

“What the fuck?! Just because h-he made y-you Number O-one, doesn’t mean that y-you’re in ch-charge of us!” Diego exploded. 

“We turn eighteen in four months. I won’t be your guardian for long. Who else could do it? Pogo and Mom technically don’t legally exist.” He reminds them gently. Diego wilted, dropping back down into his chair. 

“We will have the money to go to college if we want. I saw you had those Julliard prospectuses in your room, Vanya. I know it’s too late to audition for this year, but there’s always next. Loads of people take a year off before college. Any Ivy League school would fight to have you Five. You could go anywhere. And you could join the police as you wanted to Diego. Allison, you could go to Tisch, like you always dreamed of. Ben, you could go and study at Oxford.” He turned to each of them as he spoke. 

Vanya’s eyes were round when he finished, full of sudden possibilities. The others looked at him with hope. 

Ben burst into tears. Luther looked at him in alarm. “Klaus should be here. He should be able to join us. We should have been able to help him!” He sobbed. Vanya wrapped herself around him as best she could, head bent forward to his, her sobs joining his. Luther felt something essential break inside him. How could he have talked to the others with hope less than a day after their brother had died? 

Allison crawled onto the table and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you, Luther.” She whispered in his ear. 

“How did you make him go?” 

“What?” Luther asked. Even Ben looked up. 

“How did you make him go?” Five repeated. “It surely can’t have been that easy. Leaving once we were eighteen? He would have just locked us in here and never let us out again.” 

Luther gulped. “I told him that if he didn’t go, and if he tried to stop us from leaving that I would kill him.” 

Silence fell across the room. 

“Fuck yeah!” Diego whooped, then blushed. They all started to laugh then; watery and strained, but laughter nonetheless. 

“Master Luther,” Pogo said from the doorway. “There’s someone on the phone for you.” 

Luther frowned and followed Pogo up the stairs. He picked up the phone. “Hello?” He asked. 

“Is this Mr Hargreeves?” For a moment Luther had no idea what to say. 

“Yes,” he finally replied.

“We have your son here at the morgue, a Mr Klaus Hargreeves. We will be needing you to come down and pick him up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm gonna take a bit of a break so I can get a better buffer- only five chapters is making me nervous. But you know me, I'll probably forget all about that in a few days. I have an exam on Wednesday (hominins this time rather than murder- I have to be on so many government watch lists by now) so wish me luck!


	9. In which the God is unhelpful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which God is unhelpful and other possibilities are explored

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings in this one I'm pretty sure. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in so long. I have done lots and very little at the same time, but now I have an extra 4000 words in my buffer. Enjoy!

Klaus opened his eyes to see trees obscuring the sky. He pushed himself up off of the ground (the dirt beneath his hands doesn't feel like anything). The woodland road that he was on was strangely dulled as if he was seeing everything through a fogged up window, despite the sunlight streaming from overhead. The leaves on the trees rippled but there was no wind.

A gravelly crunch alerted him to the presence of someone or something. He turned around to see a girl sat on a bicycle in a summer dress. She looked at him with an expression of disdain. He got the feeling that they’d met before, probably many times. He found himself gearing up for a thoroughly useless exchange despite another part of him being damn certain that they’d never met before.

“Where the fuck am I?” 

“Where do you think?” She asked dryly.

“But- I’m not dead?!” He floundered. 

“No, you aren't. But you should be.” She supplies, oh-so-helpfully.

“What happened?”

“Gunshot wound to the head. Pretty messy” she quips.

“Christ on a cracker...Wait- if I’m a god, then why am I here?” He asked, frowning.

“Because you are still bound to that mortal body of yours.”

“Would you unbind me then? Being mortal is … Oh-so-boring.” He waves a hand lazily. 

“No.”

“Why not?” he whines. “I don’t wanna be here with you either.”

“Because I don’t like you. You were always annoying when you brought my souls to me. I haven’t had this much peace for aeons.” She looks wistful at this statement. 

“So send me back!” He provides, grinning.

“No. You’d die instantly. Your body is too destroyed to support life.”

“Fix it then.”

“I cannot. The power that binds you to your mortal body is too strong for me to interfere with your body.” 

“But I can’t stay.”

“No, you can’t.”

“What about the other realms of the dead? Surely this can’t be the only one, if you’re here and not Ben.”

“None of them want to deal with you either. You’re a psychopomp. You don’t belong to either the living or the dead.”

“Well then, where should I go?”

She pointed to the road behind him, then turned and cycled away. 

Klaus raised his eyebrows and waved his ‘goodbye’ hand to her, then turned and ambled down the track. 

He walked for what could have been decades or could have been minutes, he couldn’t tell. But one moment he was in the forest, and next, it looked as if he was suspended in a pool full of stars. Soft light illuminated his skin enough to see blood under his nails when he reached out to try and touch one of the stars. The star glowed brightly as his fingers passed through then blinked out.

A rustling behind him caused him to perform what was almost a perfect pirouette. Two small boys held hands giggling together, their voluminous robes rippling as they moved. They grimaced in tandem when they saw him and waved him on.

He was then in a meadow with a pale grey sky above and small white flowers dotting the grass. Pale chittering creatures chased him away. 

A warmer, bright meadow with a golden building that looked like an upturned boat was next. Large cats (lynxes perhaps) growled at him as he passed. 

A huge wooden hall covered in carvings of battles and monsters. Mobbed by ravens.

A cool forest at dusk where the trees themselves chased him away. 

Place by magnificent place he passed through, each more beautiful than before, chased away from each by angrier and angrier, uglier and uglier creatures. 

And then suddenly he was in a place that felt inexplicably like home to him. It was a deciduous woodland, with thick piles of autumn leaves heaped on the ground. The trees were a riot of colour. Thick scents of wood smoke permeated the forest. He could hear someone humming. Strains of music filled the air. Something told him that it was coming from the trees themselves. 

He followed the rich scent of meat roasting, the sweet scent of pastries baking and the savoury scent of bread fresh from the oven to a house in a clearing. It was round, with rough white walls and golden thatch that almost reached to the ground. It rose several stories into the air, smoke trickled out from in between the stems on the roof. Red berries on a string were looped around and over the roof, like a large Christmas tree. The knots and woven pattern made his fingers itch. 

He pushed open a smooth wooden door to see a cosy house, full of wooden furniture painted in a riot of colours. Writing and art covered the walls and fairy lights and strips of cloth covered the ceiling. It was the kind of house he’d always dreamt about. 

There was someone standing in the kitchen, humming happily whilst attending to the food.   
“Oh, there you are! I’ve been missing you!” They said happily. Their features shifted in a way that Klaus couldn’t tell if they were male or female. All he could tell was that they had bright red hair and eyes that glowed softly blue-green like arctic ice. 

“Oh! But you’re not really here are you?” They said sadly, tilting Klaus’ head this way and that with gentle fingers. “Ah well, at least I can fix that.” They leant forward to kiss his forehead. It felt like someone had set off a supernova inside his head. Not painful, but not comfortable and more intense than he’d ever experienced before. He staggered away, out of the house. 

The last thing he heard before blackness overtook him was a soft, “I love you”. 

 

_____________________________________________________________________

 

It was cold, so cold that he could feel it in his bones. Every breath felt like white-hot pokers were being shoved down his throat. His ears rang and rang and rang until something warm and thick flowed from them. 

It was dark, so dark that he was unsure if he’d ever see light again. Eyes open, eyes closed, it made no difference. He reached up, but his fingers just met coldness. It surrounded him on all sides; up, down, sideways and beneath. 

And the ghosts. The ghosts screamed and screamed and screamed. On and on and on and on. Or maybe it was him screaming. His throat hurt more now. So did his ears. And fuck. His head. His fucking head fucking hurt. Pain like he had never felt before. He was sure now that his screams had joined the ghosts. 

“...shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Kid are you ok? Here let me help you. Someone, help! I need some help in here! This kid’s alive!” Someone was shouting. He tried to get away, but his limbs only flopped uselessly. He just wanted the screaming to stop. 

Rough hands picked him up, they were running, he thought. His legs and arms banged into them with every step. 

Warmth, oh blessed fucking warm. Scratchy, itchy, smelly warmth. He pulled it closer to him, huddling down into it. Oh and softness. He was now on something soft. He opened his eyes a sliver, not expecting anything. But warm yellow light rushed into his irises and he could _see_. 

“Kid, hey, kid! Who are you?” 

It took him a long moment to understand the question and even longer to formulate the answer. 

“Klaus, I’m Klaus Hargreeves.”   
_______________________________________________________

It was a long and confusing three hours for Klaus, who was sat wrapped in a few blankets and nothing else for the majority of it. Finally, someone took pity on him and scrounged up a t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms for him to put on. Every person that came through shoved another cup of coffee into his hands, in some sort of desperate attempt at an apology. By the time someone told him that his father was on his way he was jittery beyond belief. 

“Klaus, your father has arrived,” the dowdy receptionist told him. Klaus tensed, but it wasn’t Sir Reginald who walked through the door. It was Luther. Luther who swept him into a literal bone-crushing hug (Klaus could have sworn he felt his ribs creak). “Just go with it,” Luther hissed into his ear. 

Luther lead him out of the building to the battered old car that Sir Reginald had begrudgingly bought for them to learn to drive on after they persuaded him that it’d be potentially useful in a hijacking situation. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Klaus demanded. “Why the ever-loving fuck did I just wake up in a morgue?” 

Luther sighed. “You’ve got a lot to catch up on. What do you remember?” 

“We were on a mission and I remember you lot clearing the room of gunmen and chatting to the hostages. If I was injured, why didn’t I wake up in the hospital?”

“You weren’t injured Klaus, you died. You were shot in the head. I saw you. There was literally nothing left of your head. It took us hours to pick all the bone fragments out of Allison’s hair. I have no fucking clue how you’re alive.” 

Klaus stared at Luther in horror.


	10. In which reunions are had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which reunions are had and some things are explained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight trigger warning for some disturbing imagery. Oh, and I've also finally updated the tags. I'd actually forgotten that Kliego was supposed to be happening here. I thought about it, then went with Klaus/Ben because I decided that Diego would really need an outside force to mellow him out a bit in the next arc.   
> We're at chapter 10 already! We also have just over 100 kudos, you guys are the absolute best! And we're edging towards 1500 hits!!

Scratching, scrapping undertones accompanied the mournful music that poured from Vanya’s beloved violin. Her arms ached furiously, but the idea of lowering the instrument sent her mind into a wild panic. So she continued to lay until the pain in her arms faded and swelled again and again, like waves on a beach. She had run out of pieces to play who knew how many hours before, she just let the all-consuming sorrow flow out of her into her music. 

For her entire life, Vanya had been overlooked and ignored, scorned where her siblings were worshipped. She would endure a score of lifetimes of that isolation if it would give her back her brother. She and Klaus had never really been close. When her siblings actually _remembered_ that she existed it was Allison or Five, her sister and her best friend. Klaus always fell in more with Diego and Ben- the Even Numbers Squad. But Klaus, when he did interact with her was always kind, never failing to make her laugh. She hadn't realised how few those moments were until she reviewed them each one by one, recalling them in as vivid detail as she could. Most distressing was when she found that she could never remember each incidence clearly, the memories running together like raindrops down a windowpane. 

Luther had disappeared without a word earlier in the evening. Vanya wasn’t at all sure what to think of him any more. For most of their lives, he had been the worst perpetrator of the neglect that Sir Reginald had insisted upon, he'd had the least faith in any of her abilites and had complained the most when she'd been starting her violin. He'd almost managed to convince Sir Reginald to stop her playing because he couldn't stand the scratchy strangled-cat noise that the violin had made for the first few years of practice. But now he’d saved them, sending Sir Reginald away, making sure he'd never hurt them again. But the question was why hadn’t he done it before? Vanya could just about understand why he hadn’t done it before Ben but hadn’t that been _enough_ of a wake-up call for him? Why hadn’t he saved them before Klaus died? 

“Vanya!” Five flashed into existence on the other side of her music stand, knocking the ignored music sheets to the ground in a swirl of white paper and black ink.

She paused but didn’t take her bow away from the strings. 

“Luther’s back- he’s just parking the car- and Pogo told me to gather everyone up. He says that Luther has even more good news.” Five explained. Vanya frowned. How the fuck could there be any good news tonight when they'd had the worst news barely 24 hours before. She ignored him and returned to playing. 

“Pogo was _smiling_.” He insisted, “Something good _has_ to be happening.”

Reluctantly Vanya lowered her violin. She nodded to Five who grabbed her arm. There was a momentary whirling and roaring then they stood in the entrance hall. Ben was sat swaddled in blankets clutching what looked to be Klaus’ stuffed lion. Five brought Allison and Diego to the entrance hall as the doors swung open. 

Luther stepped over the threshold, his arm extended behind him. A delicate hand was gripped in his huge one. A hand with an umbrella tattooed on the soft underside of the wrist.

Vanya launched herself across the hall with a sob, knocking Klaus’ off of his feet. Luther caught them both before they fell, gathering them both to his chest. The group rocked, then finally fell over after a third impact, sprawled on the floor in a mass of sobbing limbs. 

Finally, Klaus managed to extricate himself from the mass of siblings. He knelt down on the cold tile in front of Ben. “Hey Benny,” He whispered. Ben regarded him for a long moment, then sprang forward and captured Klaus in a kiss. Klaus’ eyes widened for a moment, then fluttered shut and kissed Ben back enthusiastically. 

It took a while but eventually, they all relocated to Allison’s room- it having the largest bed. Grace had already modified a pair of pyjamas for Ben (he felt a lot more comfortable now that he was finally clothed and free from the ivs). They all clutched various hot drinks and nibbled on Grace’s signature cookies. Vanya had hot chocolate with cinnamon, just how she liked it. Her arms were shaking so hard that she could barely bring it to her lips without spilling it. She wasn't sure whether it was from residual sadness, shock or relief.

“Klaus,” Five felt so much better being able to speak his name without it holding the connotation of death. “How?” It was the closest he’d come to speaking a full sentence since Luther and Klaus had returned. 

“Honestly? I don’t even know. One moment I was on the mission, chatting to that guy- Dave- and then I was somewhere else. There was this girl on a bike- she was such a bitch! She was like ‘Klaus, I don’t like you and I don’t want you here but I can’t send you back either. Be gone!’ 

So I did as I was told- yes, yes very unlike me- and I walked out of there, into somewhere- else. I was in the sky I think and Pastor and Colyduex-”

“Castor and Polydeuces” Luther cut in. Klaus flapped a dismissive hand at him. 

“ _They_ didn’t want me there either, so I kept walking. I went through Valhalla and Folkvangr- that’s Freya’s version of Valhalla- and all the different versions of the afterlife that Father made me study. Then I was in a wood. It felt like _home_ in a way this place never has. Like I belonged there, like nothing bad could ever happen to me there.” A tear ran down his cheek; Ben took his hand gently. 

Klaus sniffled. “There was this house; it was weird like a circus tent had a baby with an English cottage- you know, like those ones you see in postcards. Wait, do those houses actually exist or am I dreaming and they just exist in fairy tales…Anyway, it was weird. 

So I went in and it was really nice like so my aesthetic if I lived in a circus tent/ potentially mythical cottage hybrid baby house. Except it wasn’t a baby, it was huge! And there was this person who was cooking. I couldn’t tell if they were a man or a woman but they told me that I wasn’t supposed to be there either yet and kissed me on the forehead. Then boom! I woke up in the morgue. Scared the shit out of me and the poor fucker who found me.”

The group fell into an uneasy silence. Allison burst into tears again. She held up something small and white in her hand. Vanya had helped her pick out dozens if similar fragments from her hair- apparently they’d missed some.   
Klaus picked it up dubiously. “Do you think that because I managed to regrow my head, each one of these would regrow back the rest of me?” 

Luther punched him in the shoulder, accidentally being far more forceful than he intended. Klaus toppled over into Ben who yelped in pain then fainted. Luther looked absolutely horrified. 

Diego shot to his feet. “Luther, what the fuck?” he yelled.

“I didn’t _mean_ to!” Luther rolled off the bed the other way- hands held up. 

“Regardless if you meant to or not, you just really hurt Ben, you asshole!” Five snapped. 

“Hey, guys, stop. It was an accident.” Ben croaked, eyes watering “Please, we’re all here and we’re all safe. Just, please be more careful Luther. Because, fuck, that hurt.” 

Diego was still glaring daggers at Luther as they retook their places on the bed. 

“Can someone explain to me why Luther was called Mr Hargreeves by the people at the morgue and where Father is?” Klaus asked. He was cradling Ben as he sat in his lap, already falling into the role of the protective boyfriend (at least that’s what he hoped he was, trust it to take them both almost dying for them to finally get together). 

“Luther told him to leave. Said if he didn’t that he’d take us away and we wouldn’t stop the apocalypse when it happens. Apparently, that was enough.” Allison explained, voice still thick with tears. 

“Huh. So what we gonna do now?” Klaus asked. 

They made a sorry bunch, Vanya reflected. Seven teenagers so very fucked up by their father that they knew no one outside the seven of them (and a chimpanzee and a robot). They had no real world experience, just scraps of knowledge soaked up from their irregular encounters with normal people. Other than her music, she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. She didn’t even have any hobbies. 

“We look after Ben; we help him heal. And we look into our supposed divinity.” Five supplied. 

“No,” Vanya said slowly, “we look after each other, we help _us_ heal. All of us. Father is gone and we can finally be a family. And therapy. We all need lots of therapy.” She decided. 

“Therapy sounds like it would suck. But yeah, we fucking need it,” Diego agreed. 

“We all have the _worst_ Daddy issues.” Klaus grinned. Five snorted, but nodded, and gave Vanya a fond look. “Didn’t I tell you that we need you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This ](https://www.internationalfriends.co.uk/upload_files/303/Stonehenge%20Neolithic%20Village.jpg) is what the house looks like, or a smaller version at least. I now have an 8/9 chapter buffer and I actually have a good idea where the next two arcs of this are going. We're actually at the end of the first arc here, things are only going to get weirder (but strangely fluffier) for the second arc. The third arc is going to be back to angst though. I just thought you guys might appreciate some fluff and character exploration for a bit.


	11. In which things are fluffy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are fluffy after a few month time skip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, trigger warnings for mentioned self-harm. It's mainly full of indulgent fluff with how I'd like to see their lives going whilst supported by therapists and actual friends outside their siblings. Feel free to add any prompts with any self-indulgent headcanons you have in the comments because we have a good few chapters like this before we get to plotting properly again as this is the start of a new arc.

Rich velvet, smooth silk, plush leather. Lilies, lavender and honey. Gentle indie music and soft lighting. Everything inside the boutique was calm and collected, it was a much easier space to inhabit than anywhere at the Academy. Alison’s hair was neatly swept off her face in a tidy chignon that Grace had helped her style. Her makeup was done to perfection. But the biggest change in her was the true happiness in her eyes. When she’d first been interviewed for the job her boss had hemmed and hawed over her, there had been an air of deep-set sadness that could have put off the customers. A subtle rumour to tell him that she'd be better soon and she'd got the job (she was trying to be above outright rumouring herself the position, her therapist had warned her about how that could really bite her in the arse later, so she'd complied. She'd really wanted the job though and saw nothing wrong with _smoothing_ the process).

Despite that, however, Alison had made a great sales girl from her first day. Even without her rumours, she had a charm that meant that not a single customer left the store without a bag clutched in their hand, even the ones who'd clearly come in to look and quite probably couldn't afford it. 

“Hey Allie, have you seen that new film, Devil Wears Prada? I went with my girls at the weekend,” Suzanna asked her, leaning across the glass counter. Suzanna was several years older than her and stunningly beautiful. She'd helped Allison with her makeup and fashion when she'd first arrived- apparently, her taste had been quite childish still and a year or so out of date. She hadn't even batted an eyelid when she found out who Allison was, just commented on that god-awful uniform and had made her giggle. Allison really appreciated just being treated like everyone else. It helped that most of the girls at the boutique were rich girls looking for a leg up in the fashion industry because they weren't quite the 1%; they were used to dodging the low-level paparazzi who _loved_ to follow the up and coming whose parents were the slightly washed-out c-list actors or 80s low-level pop stars. They helped her hide in plain sight and made her feel like an actual girl, not just a superheroine. 

“Yeah! ‘That’s all’” She mimicked, face falling into a stony mask. Suzanna laughed, bright red nails clicking on the glass.

“Did I tell you that she came in a few months before you were hired? She was really sweet,” Sophia cooed, tucking her braids away from her face. 

“No!” Allison made a mock wounded expression, “tell me everything!” She laughed again and furled a t-shirt and slipped it into a bag for a woman, flashing her a huge white-toothed smile. “Have a great day!” she chirped. Retail could wear on the soul sometimes just it was nowhere near as wearing as life had been before.

Once her shift was done, she slipped her coat over her uniform. It had been rejected from the shop because a tiny patch of the lining had been stitched backwards near the front hem, where no one would ever see. She’d bought it a huge discount, but still enough to give her a thrill at spending Sir Reginald’s money on something he'd deem useless and a waste of money. 

She pushed across the road at the light and ducked into a massive high-end department store. She’d made friends with some of the clerks there on their after shift drinks at a tiny bar cramped into an alley a block away (she was perfectly content drinking mocktails and just _socialising_ with people who hadn't known her when she was four). They let her hang around and pretend to shop whilst keeping an eye out for celebrities. A few had already popped into her shop- she was in awe of people who’d actually _earned_ their fame. She hoped that she could do the same soon. She was working on her application to Tisch in every spare moment she got.

“Hey, babe!” Denis, one of the clerks who was a close friend, cooed at her. “Look at what I nabbed for you! It was a tester for like, a day.” He passed her a mostly full and slightly messy bottle of nail polish that tended to retail at $389.99. She beamed at him and tucked it carefully away in her bag. Klaus would be delighted with it the next time he came home. He was currently partying his way across Europe because he said ‘he needed to get back to his roots’. Before that, it had been Japan and South Korea, although he’d taken Ben with him so he could see his home country. 

Ben had been finding it difficult without him, but Klaus had needed to do something that was away from the city he'd grown up in. She'd spent long hours chatting meaninglessly to him about boys, clothes and music at night for several weeks after the whole dying and coming back to life ordeal due to his horrific nightmares. She knew that Ben had felt bad about not being with him but he was still healing a really had needed the rest so he could heal. When they had spent time together overnight Ben would end up going to sleep and Klaus would work himself up by having a nightmare, then waking up surrounded by ghosts and then trying to keep himself together so as not to wake him. 

Strange breathy wails had woken her up about a week after he'd come back to them. She'd found him curled in the corner of Ben's room, headphones on, a fist stuck in his mouth the smother the sobs that wracked him. She'd taken one look at his bruised and bloodied hands and tearstained face and dragged him to the bathroom to get cleaned up. He'd shakily admitted to only getting a few hours sleep over the entire _week_ \- the ghosts had taken umbrage to the fact he'd died and come back when they couldn't, they'd screamed at him until one had managed to break through and claw deep scratches down his arm. He'd spent the rest of that night getting high out of his mind then having night terrors. He'd been a complete mess with her but seemingly put together during the day. It had taken him giving himself a concussion by banging his head against the wall on a night when she hadn't woken up to get him to go to Mom about it. She'd suggested that he gave himself some time to heal away from the Academy. At that idea, he'd perked up and said that he'd always wanted to go travelling. He'd gone a day later. 

She spent the next few nights with a devastated Ben before she'd decided to stage an intervention. She'd managed to get Ben to agree to wait a month until he'd healed more before joining Klaus in Japan. He'd come back from South Korea with a determination that she hadn't seen in him before. She loved it. 

Alison drove home contentedly, pausing to pick Luther up from his shift at the animal shelter. He’d seemed so lost without Father that when his therapist had suggested he go and spend a day with the puppies he’d been hooked. It was a way to get out all of his mothering on creatures that actually wanted and needed it rather than on the siblings who bristled at anything that remotely sounded like an order from him. He’d applied for an engineering degree at the college in the city and was hoping to get into NASA in a few years. 

“I told Five that you’d be able to pick him up from Delores’ apartment on your way back,” he told her as he swung himself into the car. He smelt of wet dog and hay, which was kinda gross, but to see him so happy more than made up for it. Three months ago she would have thrown a fit at an order like that, but she only hummed and rounded the block to head over to Dolores’ apartment on the other side of the river. 

Dolores was a professor of experimental maths and quantum physics at the college. She’d finally caught the person who’d been stealing the books her student’s needed from the library. She and Five had hit it off instantly. They spent hours on end talking about things that made Allison’s head spin. 

A month ago Five had declared that they were together in a tone that brooked no argument. Allison had freaked out until he snapped that he was asexual to her so regardless of the fact that he was mentally overage and physically not there was nothing in their relationship that could be considered weird. They were just made for each other intellect wise and they were both happy with that. It hadn't;t made it any less disturbing when he'd turned up with a hickey a week later. 

“Five what _have_ you been up to?” Klaus had crowed in delight. Five just shot a pointed glare to where Ben sat on his lap and had shot “Brotherfucker” back at him. 

Klaus had squawked in indignation, lobbing a pillow at Five who jumped away, snorting with mirth. Allison had dropped the glass that she’d been holding in shock. She hadn’t heard Five laugh in over a decade. A firm word to Klaus in private and it had never been brought up again. 

“But she’s _old_ ,” Klaus had cried. 

“Pot, meet Kettle.” She grinned. Klaus huffed but promised.

Five clambered into the car, smudges of chalk on his blazer sleeves. “How was your day?” Allison asked. Five brightened. “We talked about quantum entanglement today and how it links to the many worlds theory. And She has got a new coffee maker. It makes actual drinkable coffee.” 

“Cool,” Luther mumbled. “We had a new litter of mongrel pups this morning. I swear one of their parents was a bear, they’re the size of small cats already and they’re barely a week and a half old.” His eyes grew shiny, a wide smile tugging at his mouth. 

Allison and Five shared an amused glance in the rearview mirror. “We’ve been talking, and if you want to bring one of them back when it’s old enough, we’re willing for you to,” Allison told him. Luther’s eyes lit up. “Really?” 

“Yup, everyone has agreed to it, even, Diego,” she said, making a popping sound with the p. 

________________________________________________________  
Ben greeted them in the entrance hall, whizzing past them in his one-armed wheelchair (he'd covered it in his favourite quotes and was already much faster on it than the rest of them could run). “Did you tell Luther about the puppy yet? Ah- I see you did. I wonder what kind of monster you’re gonna bring us?” He laughed. Even he was looking much better than before, regardless of the compression bandages still covering his limbs. 

“There’s a new postcard from Klaus. Mom wants to read it to us when Vanya gets back.” He informed them as they made their way to the kitchen. 

Diego was sat sprawled in a chair at the table, a towel slung around his neck, hair still dripping. “How was boxing?” Allison asked. 

“Pretty good. I sparred with Eudora twice today,” he said, looking immensely pleased, “Gods that girl really can kick.” Allison giggled.   
Diego's new girlfriend was working wonders on his personality - sure he still brooded daily, but he was relaxed in a way that he hadn't been before. Her father was a police officer, and she was following in his footsteps. He'd also taken Diego under his wing pretty quickly, helping him channel his anger and bitterness into various more positive directions which made for a much nicer, more mellow brother who didn't tend to fly off the handle at any little thing. 

Vanya slipped into the kitchen quietly, dropping down next to Five and slumped onto him, tired from a day at the community centre where she gave music lessons to the local children. He curled an arm around her, they were still much closer to each other than they were to the rest of them. The family relationship with Vanya was still a tad strained but getting better with _all_ of them making an effort. 

“Oh good, you’re all here!” Grace smiled. She drew the postcard from her apron pocket. It was a picture of a forest, warm golden sunlight filtering through pine trees to illuminate an emerald moss carpeted floor. 

“It says that he’s in Bavaria at the moment. And- oh dear!” She face dropped. “He died again last week. He says he’s alright now, but he was trying to stop a guy from going after a really drunk girl and he hit his head. But he’s coming home because there’s something he wants to try. It’s dated four days ago. That means-”

“Hello, siblings-mine! I’m back!” Klaus flounced into the room, pink feather boa distributing glitter and feathers every which way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the Five/ Delores thing, regardless of what he looks like, he's now 18 in the story which is overage just about everywhere (overage is 16 here but I know it can be a bit weird for Americans etc for whom it's 18). And in this AU people actually, know about the not-ageing thing, it's going to get pretty obvious when they're all in the public gaze. I've got more of an explanation of their relationship later, but I decided pretty early on that my headcanon Five is ace, so they don't have any sort of sexual relationship at all (hickeys are the furthest I'm going- yes some ace people do like kissing and some don't). Five is pretty mature for his age and there isn't any power difference between them in that regard, the only place where there's a difference is experience, but when you're brought up how they are there is no way for a relationship not to have a really weird dynamic from an experience point of view. If you don't like it feel free to ignore it (there's one chapter dedicated to it in the future but I'll put a tl;dr at the bottom for people who don't want to read it or stop reading, I won't be offended :)


	12. In which Klaus has a plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Klaus has a plan and gives people gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, I just kinda left you there for a while. I mean, I know it was only four days but when I'm reading a story that updates daily/every other day the break in routine throws me a bit. But, I've just written a 3200 chapter, started a second google doc (the other is 73 pages long and my computer sulked at me every time I opened it) and this is approaching 30k with no end in sight so I feel a bit better about that
> 
> No real trigger warnings for this other than a brief mention of temporary character death

Klaus dropped a soft kiss on the side of Ben's face, then clambered onto the table- never one for following convention. He stuck his head into the sequined satchel at his waist, rummaging around for something. With a flourish, he drew out a statue and dumped it onto the table. 

Ben reached for it with his good hand; it was a tarnished silvery colour with a slight green patina. A man with apparently no bones (his legs bent in a very inhuman way) sat cross-legged holding a staff of some sort across his lap. His eyes were obscured by an antlered headdress, mouth open, possibly in song. 

"Cernunnos," he observed. 

Klaus sent him finger guns and a grin. "Exactly!" He exclaimed. "Or, probably. It's too old to tell for certain--it could just be a guy who just really liked antlers. Or he might just have been really horny." He amended, a grin tugging at the corners of his purple-lipsticked mouth. "It came from a museum in Germany. It's a replica!" He added hastily at Vanya's horrified expression. "I died right outside that museum. Not the worst place to die, really, rather pretty. 

"Apparently there used to be an ancient settlement where the town is now, and a few things, like this guy, have turned up over the years. And when I died, instead of going back to the Afterwards, I think I went back in time. Or, well I bore witness to something that was very old, I didn't actually interact with it. Shame as they looked like they were having a great time. Lots of booze, probably quite a few drugs too. 

It was a ceremony and that was on an altar that was above a well or a deep round hole of some kind in the rock. And that gave me an idea. Benny, you can't control them still, right?"

Ben winced but agreed. He’d been trying but he hadn’t actually managed to convince Them to come out yet. He wasn’t sure if that was him or Them. They’d made several appearances while he was asleep though; there was finally some good use for those cameras in their rooms. The others had been pestering him to get on it for months now. They'd even had a sit-down meeting and agreed that he needed to get them in check before They did any more damage. A small part of him couldn't help but be appreciative of the fact that they were all determined to help him- he was normally in the background, quiet, shy, mousy Number Six. Mostly, he was just annoyed at being pestered though.

"If They can come out of you, why can't I go in? Like, we're both from Hell, and I can have a look-see what's going on in there. Maybe find something to stop them from coming back out again" Klaus leant toward him earnestly. 

"That is probably one of your most stupid ideas to date." Five commented drily. "If I didn't know you, I'd say you were suicidal to suggest such a thing." He drained the rest of his coffee. "If that's all-" 

"Wait!" Klaus caught his jumper. "I've actually thought this through." One hand still clutched in Five's jumper, Klaus reached back into his satchel and pressed something into Five's hands. 

Ben squinted. "What is that?" Luther asked. 

"It's a ritual dagger." It was a copper-green triangular shaped dagger, with studs holding on a curved socket and ribbed handle. It was about as long as Five’s forearm and had several lines running down the centre of the blade. The edges were jagged, as if it was starting to fray. Bronze Age if he had to make a guess.

"And this explains anything how?" Five replied. 

Klaus looked a bit sheepish. "I may have stolen that." He admitted. "The people, in the past or whatever the hell it was, they were using it. Something came out of that well- something dark and sort of-” he waved his arms nebulously “-floaty. they used this on it, and it disappeared. Then- well. Then they chucked some people in after it. Slit their throats first, which was rather considerate of them.

"It wasn't the same, but it really reminded me of Them. Perhaps if I do the same--with meat and then me- it could work." 

" But, why? Why do something so dangerous?" Ben asked him. Klaus reached down and took his hand. 

"Because I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you again. I can't die, or well, die permanently, but you can. I’ve regrown a head. I’m pretty sure I’d be able to regrow other, less important things. And well-" he poked gently at Ben's shoulder," you can't. And They haven't come out in a while and aren't quiet volcanoes the most dangerous " Klaus' other hand cupped Ben's face, thumb stroking over the cheekbone. Ben had to admit that Klaus really did have a point.

"Still a stupid idea," Five broke in, whilst he inspected the dagger. He passed it to Diego who'd been making not so subtle grabby-hands towards it. "There are better ways to get Them under control." 

"Yeah? Name me one." Klaus challenged, although he looked like he really would like to hear another plan. 

An awkward silence fell over the kitchen. 

"We agreed that we would do anything _anything_ to help Ben. That it was the priority. What the fuck have you done about it?" He aimed the last part at Five, who looked uncomfortable. 

"I didn't spend all my time partying. I spent a lot of time in museums," he said sulkily. He reached into his bag again. He handed out small statues to each of them, apart from Diego who got a picture. “They’re you guys. I did a bit of research too. Historians are surprisingly chatty once you get them talking.” 

Ben took the small statue. It showed a snarling man with a slightly extra amount of faces, arms and legs crouched on the back of a camel which was in the process of collapsing beneath him. While he didn’t feel at all that this was him, he felt a strange kinship with the figure. It was fierce in a way that he wished he could be. It was almost how he felt when he let Them out (when they weren’t in the process of tearing him apart)- a high that nothing else could match. It was terrifying though. “Thanks, Klaus,” he said quietly, winning him a brilliant grin from him. 

“I don’t want you to do it. What if you get stuck? I couldn’t bear that. I lost you once. Not again.” Ben told him. Klaus’ face fell. “You’re just as important to me as I am to you,” Ben reminded him. Klaus dropped his gaze. “Truly, Klaus. I love you and I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” Klaus whispered. 

“I think you should do it Klaus,” Luther piped up. The entire kitchen turned to him incredulously. “We already agreed, if Ben lets Them out again, he’s probably going to die. Klaus _can’t die_. If something goes wrong then I’ll go after him. I can’t lose another brother,” he added quietly, drawing in on himself. “Anyway- Klaus suggested it himself. We aren’t forcing him to do anything that he doesn’t want to do.” 

“I agree with Luther,” Vanya put in. Luther smiled at her gratefully. “We’ve done literally nothing to help Ben other than watching him sleep. They’re coming out more and more often while he sleeps. Ben, I know you love Klaus, but we love you too, even if it is not the same way. Please, let us help you.” Her eyes were wide and shiny. Allison nodded slowly. 

“We won’t let anything happen to you. I’d cut them off before They hurt you again.” Diego reassured him, laying a hand on his shoulder, just above the stump. “I’d go after Klaus too.” Five added, “I still think it’s a bad idea though.” 

“What’s happening?” Grace asked sweetly. 

“Nothing, Mom. I’ll come and join you in the gym soon.” Ben smiled at her. Grace nodded and left the kitchen.

Once she had gone, Ben sighed, scrubbing his hand across his face. “We’re only doing this if you promise to be careful. And if you lot make sure that nothing goes wrong. But, not today. Tomorrow. I have physio this afternoon and I might as well be dead if Dr Cornelius finds out that I haven’t done my physio,” he grinned wryly. 

“Coming?” He asked Klaus. 

“‘Course, dearie,” Klaus said, tone sing-song, hopping off the table. 

 

______________________________________________________________

Sir Reginald had had Grace set the gym up for Ben’s physical therapy the day he’d been deemed stable. Remarkably, regardless of his intentions, he’d done the right thing in this case. Dr Gupta had even praised his haste. Grace had downloaded the necessary information on physiotherapy that night and had started to help Ben the next day.   
Klaus helped Ben into his temporary prosthetics, which had been covered in stickers and doodles from just about the moment that they arrived. Ben hoped that soon he’d be able to do it by himself, but for now, he was glad that he had Klaus back to help him. Vanya had been really patient with him, but Klaus always knew the right thing to make him feel better when he slipped, or when the enormity of his situation overwhelmed him. 

Grace smiled passively as Ben heaved himself along the parallel set of bars, his prosthetic arm carefully locked onto the bars. Klaus was gibbering away about his adventures in Europe, providing a gentle white noise so he could concentrate on shifting his weight forward, sideways, forward, to the other. His bad shoulder ached but he just gritted his teeth. Weight forward, side, arm forward, foot forward, weight forward, over to the other side. Repeat. Again and again, until he had taken ten lurching steps forward. 

“Good! That was three-point five-four seconds faster than last time, sweetheart!” Grace beamed. Klaus rushed to help turn him. Gentle hands steadied him as he unlocked his grip from the bar and turned unsteadily. Then back at it. It was one of the worst parts of physio, but one of the most rewarding. A month ago those ten steps had taken almost twice the effort to complete. 

After walking, Grace took him through exercises to strengthen him, then she carefully massaged his stumps while Klaus played with his hair gently. This bit honestly kinda hurt but it was his favourite part of physio- spending time alone with Grace wasn't all that common for him and he enjoyed the physical contact. “This could do with a cut,” Klaus murmured in his ear as Grace shifted her attention to his good arm. “Mmm,” He hummed in response, closing his eyes and he leant into the soft touch. He was so glad that Klaus was back. 

“There you go sweetie, all done for today.” Grace tucked the little statue into his hand after replacing his cycling glove. “Why don’t you go and have a nap, hm?” Ben smiled at her.   
“Ok, mom.” He agreed, he _would_ likely take a nap, but later, once Klaus had wandered off to unpack. Napping now seemed like a massive waste of time.

They manoeuvred through the hall, “So, which museums did you visit?” Ben asked, jealousy clouding his voice. He’d always wanted to visit Europe. “Lots, there’s, like, one in every town. It’s like, everywhere has _history_. I went to this one which is full of the most beautiful dresses. I _really_ wanted to steal them so, so bad. But I wasn’t sure how I’d get them through customs. I mean, they do wear some interesting things there- kilts for instance. But I’m not sure a ten-foot train would be inconspicuous. Also, I think I might disrupt the ques- I might have been tutted at aggressively...” And on he went. Ben added hums and nods where appropriate. 

"Oh!" Klaus exclaimed, "I'd almost forgotten!" 

Ben shifted himself onto his bed and Klaus clambered up after him, then curled around him.

"What had you forgotten?" Ben asked him a little thickly. He was more tired than he had realised, he could feel himself drifting off already.

Klaus reached again into his bag and pulled out a beautiful red leather-bound book, greatly similar to the encyclopedia. Ben turned it over, "Essays on the Afterlife," he read. He opened the cover to reveal a beautifully marbled page with a white card on. Ben Hargreeves was written in a neat copperplate. 

"I found the author in this adorable little French village. I was poking around a bookshop, the kind you love, where it looks like a giant has sneezed and sent books everywhere. She was muttering something to herself in Oc and said something funny, so I laughed and she was surprised that a foreigner could speak it. She was so tiny and so old, like a hag out of a fairy tale. 

"You know how Reggie Dearest would make me read all about the dead and stuff? Well, I recognised one of the books, and she said no one had bought that for as long as the shop was open. She wrote this one-" he tapped his finger on the leather. "in the 30s. Was an anthropologist before she took over the bookshop. When I said I'd buy it she looked like she'd die of happiness - like, pooof- and she ran to the back and got this copy. Still, mint even though it's 80 years old. Thought you might like it." He grinned. 

Ben brought the book to his face and inhaled deeply. It smelt of old books, the faint tang of woodsmoke and Klaus' stolen perfume. "I love it," he smiled. 

Klaus booped him on the nose and he blinked owlishly. Klaus cackled at his expression. "Rude," Ben sniffed. 

Klaus lit a joint and started blowing smoke rings at the ceiling. In the silence, Ben felt a familiar emotional drop. He'd been in therapy for months and was on antidepressants, but he still got low points. It was why he'd let Klaus go- he'd spent the first three weeks crying at night but he really hadn't wanted to grow to depend emotionally entirely on Klaus. He had so little independence as it was. 

“Klaus?” Ben mumbled.   
“Mmm?”   
“Why do you want to go through the portal? Truly I mean. I know you, you’re hiding something from me.”   
Klaus sighed. “I want to try and go back to that place. I want to ask that person if they can help me. They did it once, they could do it again. I think we might have been together- you know, before- and they might be able to help you. Maybe even Vanya.” 

“Klaus?” Ben asked, his voice small, a clawing pain in his ribs, “Do you want to get back with them? Like, use this as an opportunity to go back to that place to stay?" Ben wasn't sure what he'd do if that was what was going on. 

Klaus looked at him in horror, sitting up on his knees. “Non. Nein. Nee. Net. No!” He exclaimed. “Benny, they might have been with me once, but I don’t remember that. They weren’t there every time Reginald locking me in the mausoleum, you were. When I screamed myself hoarse from the ghosties, they weren’t there, you were. When Reginald found out I was gay and beat me for thinking about things outside the mission, they weren’t there, you were. You’ve been there for me for years. They may or may not have been there in a life- or unlife- that I don’t remember.” 

Klaus drew him into a bone-crushing hug, rocking backwards and forwards slightly. Ben buried his face in the crook of Klaus’ neck and fell asleep to Klaus’ babbling about some sort of party he'd been to in Amsterdam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ This ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwjj5IOH-M3iAhWNFxQKHT5sDfkQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FPrehistory_of_France&psig=AOvVaw0EOOcQ9i_1rjV1oM2I6WWS&ust=1559672780481904) is the dagger and [ this ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwjq1qav-M3iAhXQAWMBHSE4BlQQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FYama&psig=AOvVaw1sBVGJmOPAJtfR3Ac0RNTD&ust=1559672867231211) is the Yama statue, [ This ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwiAucXC-M3iAhXaDmMBHVeAAnkQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ancientpages.com%2F2018%2F12%2F18%2Fcernunnos-horned-one-powerful-continental-god-preserved-in-celtic-beliefs-as-master-of-animals%2F&psig=AOvVaw0WZQ_xtvtq0QobrOI3zo2t&ust=1559672913079333) is what the image of Cernnunos looks like, apart from the statue would have it's mouth open like 


	13. In which there are cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are cuddles and Klaus cannot be trusted to carry out plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I don't really know what happened with this one... I love putting ridiculous things in my stories for some weird reason... I hope you don't find it too weird.

Diego twirled a knife nervously from his position behind Ben, who was stood in the middle of the gym, leaning gingerly on his crutches. They’d agreed that it would probably be easiest for Ben to stand, and Diego knew that he was nervous of standing for so long. He was stood there as moral support- _he_ was pretty sure Ben could do it, he'd been improving so much lately- but if Ben did fall, he'd be there to catch him before he got hurt. 

His two biggest knives were in his belt angled for easy removal. He really didn’t want to be doing this, but it was a much better- well not _better_ ; more _logical_ perhaps but not better- than any of his ideas to help Ben, which mainly involved creating demon sushi, but They’d healed from being pretty chopped up before. For some reason, Ben was still reluctant to hurt them too despite everything. 

God, he hoped this worked. He still had nightmares almost nightly of Ben and Klaus dying and staying dead. Sleeping together with Eudora helped but as she was a year younger than him her parents very rarely allowed that to happen. 

“Alright, I’m ready,” Ben gritted out, a frown etched deeply into his face by strain. The tentacles writhed under the pink and tender skin of his stomach. He let Them out with a grunt, stomach flashing blue-white for a moment before four orange-brown tentacles erupted from it. Vanya and Allison chucked globs of mince, legs of chicken and chunks of beef at the tentacles. They seized the meat out of the air and transferred it to the portal, where the mouth probably was. They then opened up for more- like a baby bird with its mouth gaping, leaving just a big enough of a gap for a twig-thin 18-year old- or so Diego hoped. True Klaus had already regrown his head once- but would he heal from non-life-threatening wounds?

Klaus jumped up and down a few times, then rubbed his hands and did a weird finger waggle gesture. “Let’s do this!” He whooped and launched himself at Ben. 

A big pile of Klaus, Ben and Diego landed on the floor in a heap of limbs and a pained ‘oof’ from Ben. When Diego managed to wiggle out from the pile he could see that the tentacles were gone. 

Five clapped them sarcastically. “Arsehole,” Diego muttered under his breath, stooping to help Ben to his feet. 

“Klaus, perhaps you should try leaning in? Like, going up to Ben when They’re out and sort of pushing gently? Rather than, you know, dive bombing him,” Vanya suggested, voice a tad quieter than how the rest would talk. While her voice was still quiet, it was now filled with a confidence that she hadn’t had before. 

“Ja! That could work,” he chirped, unfolding long legs from the floor. “Ready?” 

Ben nodded an affirmative, grimacing slightly and released Them again. More meat was chucked and happily consumed. Klaus did as Vanya suggested (Diego marvelled at the fact that Klaus was actually doing as he was told for once, especially as it came from Vanya.) While the tentacles were exploring and waving around wildly, Klaus rested his hand in the middle of Ben’s stomach. 

Diego watched in slightly horrified awe as Klaus’ fingers started to disappear into what looked like ordinary skin. Ben could feel it- it wasn’t as direct as feeling it on his skin, more like he was wearing a wetsuit and could only feel the outlines of things that were going on. It was an odd sucking feeling, like when you put your fingers in the little whirlpool that was created when you let the water out of a bath Then with a weird ‘schloop’ Klaus had been sucked into the portal with the Tentacles recoiling like a triggered venus fly trap. 

“Ooof,” Ben said as he thumped down onto the floor. Diego crouched down and put a hand on his shoulder as he clutched at his stomach. “You ok?” He asked.  
“Yeah, feels weird though. Not painful, just weird.” Ben replied. 

A collective sigh of relief was released then. “And now we wait,” Five said. 

“And now we wait,” Ben agreed. 

As soon as the words left his mouth he felt a strange sensation and the mysterious Other Tentacles sort of flowed out of his abdomen. They were cradling a very soggy looking Klaus. He was deposited on the ground, caressed a little, then the Others drew back inside Ben. No pain, no wrenching nausea, no itch like his skin would slough off. It just felt natural, like closing his eyes or raising an eyebrow. 

“That was quick,” Five commented drily.

Klaus popped up, “Ja! I found out many things, I talked to many beings and I-” He keeled over, landing on the floor giggling is head off. He waved his ‘goodbye’ hand at them slowly, “All good...I just...Need a...Nap,” he yawned, tucked himself into a ball and promptly fell asleep.

——--------------------------------------

Four hours. That's how long it took to rouse Klaus. Four of the most frustrating hours of Diego's life. He wanted to stab Klaus, except that wouldn't be at all productive because then Klaus would either be dead (yeah, no not happening) or in pain and likely to play drama queen. Also, he didn't like stabbing people- good people- not 75% bad people- actually no, he did quite like stabbing people. But it was getting ridiculous. 

Klaus' eyelashes started to flicker, and Vanya, of all people, pounced onto his bed and started to shake him awake. He mumbled incoherently for a few moments before sitting bolt upright. Their heads collided with a painful sounding crack. Vanya whimpered and scrambled back. Five glared at Klaus with a vengeance. 

"Guys, you have! To! See! This!" Klaus all but screamed. He turned to Ben, placed a hand on his abdomen and 'schloop' he was gone. 

"Fuck," hissed Diego and followed suit. He'd apologise to Ben later but making sure Klaus didn't get into further shit was his main priority here. 

Travelling through the portal felt vaguely akin to jumping with Five. Instead of the whirling, dizzying rocketing feeling, this felt more like something was tugging on him then pulling on him. Both were similarly unpleasant. 

He ended up on his hands and knees, Klaus giggling wildly in his ear, crowing 'see! See!' in triumph. Diego frowned and pushed himself up onto his knees. His jaw dropped open in awe. 

They were in Hell or a hell as far as he could tell. A cavern spread high above them, rock as red as freshly spilt blood. Wails filled the air and fires crackled in great pits. 

Except, it really wasn't like that at all. Sure, it was a bit daunting listening to the screams of the damned but it was really, really, difficult not to smile as a pack of what looked like Hell hound puppies rolled around, tussling with each other on the edge of a firepit. Their eyes were embers and their fur smoke and their sneezes adorable puffs of pinprick sparks. 

There was life everywhere in the cavern, soft grass that let out pleasant scents as the stems were crushed. White, pink, red and purple flowers bloomed, their heads nodding in the smoky breeze that smelt heavenly. Trees towered gracefully in little pockets across the landscape. 

"It really isn't all that bad here," a gentle voice said from behind him, "I know it looks bad, but their souls are being cleansed for better things to come. It was their choice to come here." 

A pretty girl sat on a hillock behind them. She looked so much like Ben it was startling. She was even wearing a white version of his favourite outfit, right down to the leather jacket. Why on earth would a sibling deliberately choose to dress up like another sibling? Diego would never be caught dead in Luther's ridiculous jumpers or overcoat, Vanya's ever-growing collection of tartan shirts or Klaus' explosion in a high-street fashion shop ensembles. 

Guessing what he was thinking, she laughed, delighted. "I'm not his sister! He's my great-uncle! I couldn't marry my brother!" 

"Yeah, a great uncle is so much better," slipped out of his mouth before he could hold it back. 

"Ew!" she laughed again, delighted even further. "No! It's a symbolic marriage only. I'm Persephone, you see- fertility," she jazz handed. "My marriage to Death- or at least one form of him- is representative of how death and life go together. Look at everything around you. This is my Paradise, so full of life. To the humans, this is their Hell, so full of pain. We aren't _together_ , I have no time for romance. " 

"Sephie, I think you're confusing poor Diego." He turned to Diego, "Persephone here is ace/aro - she deals with everything else' fertility, why should she bother with her own?" 

"That actually makes a tiny bit of sense," he conceded. "Fuck man, it looks like whoever wrote the guide book for hell focused on all the wrong bits. They should be fired." 

"Oh, we can't do that!" Persephone said as if he were a small child. "That's the Christian Hell. I can't interfere with that. This is one of the Hell _realms_ , once these poor souls have been cleansed of their past lives they'll go back and try again." 

"Sadly, I will have to leave you two now. Don't forget to come back and visit!" she disappeared into the smoke. 

"What we're looking for is over there," Klaus pointed vaguely over his shoulder. God Diego's head hurt. He'd just been visited by a goddess. A goddess who was married to his baby brother. At that point, it was so emotionally draining to be surprised, shocked, startled, scared, stressed or any other emotion that started with 's' that Diego just decided to give up and roll with it. The sun is now a giant light-bulb? Cool. Elephants are now pink? Dandy. Luther being the man-in-the-moon? Fan-fucking-tastic. He wasn't even going to ask how Klaus knew Persephone. He really didn't have a fuck left to give.

"What are we looking for?" Diego asked as they ambled through waist long grass. Normally he'd be frustrated by this point, but it was hard to be frustrated when you were watching a baby giant play pat-a-cake with a stuffed mouse the size of an elephant (it was nice not being so stressed and angry for once, although he was a bit too dazed to appreciate it). 

"We're going to see Them. I had to get a rather nice succubus to point them out to me. I didn't get very far in negotiations, unfortunately. The babies kept trying to play with me. That's why I'm all… wet" he gestures at his still slightly damp feathered coat. 

"What babies?" Diego was getting curious now. 

"The Bentacles' babies of course!" 

"Holy shit, that makes sense!" Of course Ben had no control over the other tentacles. No one can control toddlers. "So the big one is their mom?" 

"Dunno, I think it might be a hermaphrodite as there's only one of them or spontaneous pregnancies might be normal for giant tentacle monsters." He pointed through the smoke to where four giant tentacles waved lazily in the air. 

The screaming grew louder as they drew closer to a fire pit. Within the flames, the souls danced a wild jig of pain, faces wide in horror. What made Diego the most uncomfortable was the delicious scent of roasting meat that filled the air. It made his mouth water- his stomach rebelled and he had to scramble over to a bush to throw up. 

From the foul half-digested contents of his stomach, a tree started to grow. Soon it was half the height of Diego, with leaves beginning to bud. Thin deep green leaves unfurled and cut off one of Klaus' curls as it shot past his head. He yelped and grabbed Diego's hand, pulling him away from the tree. 

Eventually, they worked their way through the mist covered landscape to where the earth split open in a huge gorge. The stone was darker than the distant walls and ceiling, smoother too. He dragged his fingers over it and was surprised to feel it was as smooth as glass under his fingers _obsidian_ his mind supplied. 

Above the ceiling gave way to a roiling mass of clouds and smoke where red and white lightning crackled furiously. If he squinted he could almost make out the bedroom in the shifting darkness. 

Thick orange tentacles rose into the air. Close up Diego could see that they were leaking deep blue blood where they emerged from the gorge (Diego knew far more about octopuses and other cephalopods than he'd care to admit). With every stretch and contraction of the limbs, spurts of blood would shoot out across the volcanic glass, making it far too dangerous to get any closer. Tiny shards of obsidian flew through the air in time with the spurts and soon Diego was peppered with the needle-like fragments. 

"Why did you hurt Ben?!" He yelled furiously at it. Klaus jammed a hand over his mouth.   
"For once in your fucking life, think" Klaus snapped. "This thing is a ~tentacle monster ~, what the hell makes you think you can talk to it?" Reluctantly he nodded and mimed zipping his lips shut so Klaus would let go. 

"You're right," a small, high voice came from the gorge. A small creature with _far_ too many tentacles and eyes for his liking was peaking over the edge of the ragged gorge. He shuddered reflexively. 

"Mamma hurts. She won't listen to anyone anymore, not even me," it said sadly. The big yellow eyes filled with oddly dark tears. Without realising what he was doing, Diego was skidding over the oil-slick rock and scooped up the small creature. It wrapped itself around him like a living blanket. He couldn't bear to hear its voice so full of pain, regardless of the fact that he'd recoiled from it not a moment before. 

It took careful manoeuvring between himself and Klaus to get him back onto solid ground- his arms were slick with blood by the time he got clear- Theirs and his. He stroked the warm skin, calmingly, it wasn’t too dissimilar to human skin, but it was far smoother and without any hair. Small sniffles and hiccups came from its mouth which was God knows where under the mass of limbs. “How many of there are you?” He asked, tone gentle. 

“Six, but they’re all bigger and can’t get out from under Mamma.” Diego glanced to where the tentacles emerged from the gorge- there was no room for those tentacles themselves to come out, let alone another load of limbs. It was a wonder that this one had even got out. 

“And what’s your name?” He couldn’t really keep going around calling it Baby Tentacle Monster. 

“Apaloqric-karudion,” The small bundle of limbs replied. 

“Would it be Ok if I shortened that to Iain?” he asked. An eight-syllable name seemed a little much for a small child, Eldritch Monster or no. He got a strange full-body quiver that seemed to be a nod. 

“What do we do now?” He hissed at Klaus, “It’s obvious we’re not going to be able to negotiate with it if it didn’t even notice its baby wondering off.” 

“Mamma is stuck, that’s why she can’t talk to you.” Ian turned five yellow eyes to him. 

“What do you mean stuck?” Diego asked them. 

Three limbs waved vaguely to the portal above them. “The Gate is open. Mamma is the gatekeeper. She can’t stop until it closes all the way- she can’t let anything out of here.” Ian told him. Diego hugged them closer. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if Mom started to ignore him.

“Fluffernutter!” Klaus crowed interrupting the moment.

“What?!” Diego spluttered.

“Apaloqric-karudion is ancient Greek. It means Fluffernutter! Like Five’s sandwiches!”

“You’re telling me that Ben’s very own Eldritch monster named its baby after Five’s fucking favourite sandwiches? And how the fuck is there an Ancient Greek word for Fluffernutter?” 

“Apaloqric- soft-haired. Karudion- small nut. Fluffernutter! And why the fuck not? Our lives don’t make a lick of sense brother-mine. You’d best just accept it.” Klaus explained. Diego just grunted. 

“Klaus concentrate! How the fuck do we get out of here?” 

“We let the Bentacles send us back. Look, they’ve noticed us.”   
Two of the four tentacles descended from the air. Diego let out a squeak in fright that he would deny to his dying day. The tentacle wrapped around his waist with surprising gentleness and then _flung_ him through the air. He screamed, clinging onto Ian, who was clinging to him in return.

After a very, very long few moments of flying through the air, he landed with a thump on his arse on the floorboards of Klaus’ room. Ian widened all 13 of their eyes (Diego finally managed to count them- Ian never staid _still_ ) taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Diego, why do you have the Other Tentacles holding onto you like a koala baby?” Allison asked her exasperation with her brothers evident. 

“They’re called Iain, and they were crying and now they won’t let go…?” He offered, getting blood and grime all over the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I based this hell on a mixture of Buddhist and Greek mythology. Hades and it being underground and having Persephone comes from Greek. The Buddhist part comes from the idea that these souls are only there temporarily as part of the cleansing process before being reincarnated. This isn't the Christian hell, it's a realm dedicated to purification not punishment- I don't see Ben as a character who'd ever participate in the torture of people, especially for eternity, I see him as much more of a caring person.   
> I'm working with the idea that people go where their faith dictates to them- so a Christian/Muslim/Jew would go to Heaven/Hell depending on their behaviour in life, a Buddhist would be cleansed then reincarnated into whatever is appropriate etc because I really don't want to get preachy about the afterlife/religion etc, this fic isn't meant to be about that and it allows me a lot more to work with  
> Oh yes- Diego totally made a tree grow with leaves like knives,because, you know, fertility coming from death (or grossness)?


	14. In which things are explained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things are explained and time is messed with

“I thought we agreed that you were going to be _careful_ Klaus. You’re such an areshole.” Five seethed. 

“And you?! You were supposed to be looking after him, not bringing a baby monster back with you!” He berated Diego. The creature shrank into his chest and Diego glared at him.

“Excusez-moi! We found out why Ben doesn’t have any control and how to get him control,” Klau snapped, outraged. 

Relief and anger warred in Five. Gods, his brothers were the biggest idiots. He pinched the bridge of his nose to try and ward off the oncoming stress headache. Why could his siblings never stick to a simple plan? All he wanted to do was jump over to Dolores’ apartment and go back to the theorem they were working on. Why did people never make as much sense as maths. 

“Do tell,” he bit out.

“Momma Bentacles is stuck guarding the gate to Ben’s underworld until the gate is shut.” He poked at Ben’s stomach. “Properly shut, not just shut by Ben’s stomach. Sorry Buddy- you have a great stomach but it’s not the greatest way to stop souls escaping from the burning abyss.” 

“Wait- Ben’s monster and his stomach is all that is standing in the way of souls escaping from Hell. Christ on a Cracker!” Vanaya exclaimed. “How has the apocalypse that Father is always going on about not already happened? You must be doing an amazing job Ben.”

Ben shifted uncomfortably, ears going red. 

“I agree,” Luther put in, “Father was convinced that you had almost no control. But he’s been wrong about so many things.” 

Five was surprised by Luther’s candidness. Normally he was about as gentle as a raging elephant. Perhaps he’d finally started to mellow out; he was glad that he’d pushed for Luther getting that puppy. 

“You’re Yama?” 

Five startled. He stared at the mass of blue-purple limbs and yellow eyes. Surely it hadn’t just spoken. 

“I guess,” Ben looked even more uncomfortable.

“Cool!” the monster- Ian (?!)- chirped, unwinding several tentacles from Diego to curl around Ben. “I gave you a cuddle after Mamma hurt you! She said she didn’t mean to and she was really upset but couldn’t do anything about it. Mamma cuddled me when I was little and upset.” 

“Er, thanks,” Ben scratched his neck with his good hand. The movement highlighted his stump.   
Ian burst into noisy tears when they noticed what had happened. “Did Mamma do that to you?” They wailed. Ben nodded, blushing harder. Diego started rocking Ian, making small soothing noises. Klaus reached over to join in the comforting. 

Five just stared at them in shock. You’d have thought he’d be used to crazy shit like this, but no, he really wasn't. 

“I’m gonna head over to Dolores’. I might not be back until late, or maybe tomorrow.” He muttered to Vanya, who nodded. He jumped to Griddy’s to pick up coffee and doughnuts. The coffee wasn’t great and wasn’t his favourite- that honour went to the cafe in a small bookshop that he and Ben frequented that had a huge section on maths and physics that even set up a subscription to several of his favourite journals after he’d bought every new book and journal that came out that he was interested in over the past several months. But Dolores’ had a penchant for the black and white polka dotted chocolate and spearmint doughnuts that Griddy’s did and how could he refuse her something that made her so happy. 

Dolores’ apartment was situated on a hidden courtyard close to the college. It was stuffed to the brim with books and journals, dissertations and treatises, notebooks and loose papers. It was also quiet and smelled sweetly of fresh bread. Dolores’ always did her best work whilst baking. She was in the kitchen, up to her elbows in a large stoneware bowl, sticky dough covering her forearms. She was dictating to her computer as she worked. 

Five placed the box of doughnuts and reusable cups of coffee onto the work surface. The kitchen was light and airy, all cream cabbage rose wallpaper and vintage decor, so similar and yet so different from the kitchen at the Academy. The skylight filled the room with weak winter sunshine. 

“Hi Doll,” He greeted her, hugging her from behind. She leant back into his touch for a moment then leant away so Five could release her. That was one of the things he loved about her- she understood his limits in a way no one else did. She never pestered him for physical affection that he found hard to cope with. 

“Hello Five! How did the experiment go?” She asked whilst pushing her tortoiseshell glasses up her nose with her elbow. The russet colour of them really complimented her green eyes. 

“Klaus got in and out the first time ok. He had a four hour nap then dove back in almost as soon as he woke up, the idiot. Diego went in after him. They brought back the child of Ben’s monster.” He took a big gulp of coffee.

Dolores stared at him incredulously for a moment, then laughed- it wasn’t a particularly beautiful laugh, if anything it sounded more like a donkey’s bray than a bell ringing but Five couldn’t help but grin at the sound. “Sounds about right. Did they find out anything useful?” She rubbed her hands together to get rid of the excess dough clinging to her fingers. 

“Some. Apparently the Monster is the guardian of the entrance to Ben’s hell realm and the gate is still open so it has to guard the gate to stop anything from leaving.” He explained, nibbling on a plain doughnut. 

“Hmm, sounds logical. Hell realm did you say?” Her Scottish accent made her question sound even more incredulous. “I thought he was from Buddhist mythology? They don’t have a hell?” 

“You’re right, they don’t. But from what I can deduce from what little they’ve told me, and the fact that they both smelt like they’d been rolling around in ash, it must be a realm where the souls are purified by fire, possibly for the next life or for another realm.” He pointed out, drinking more of his coffee. 

Dolores nodded. “So whatever caused you and your siblings to be bound to these bodies must have happened while the gate was open. Oh! That reminds me-” she looked around the kitchen wildly, wiping her hands on her apron. She grabbed a book from where it had been propped open by the salt and a pomegranate against the kettle. Percy Jackson and the Titan’s Curse it read. 

“A colleague told me about this series, apparently her daughter loves it,” She grinned. 

“Doll, that’s a children’s book. Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment-” He pointed out gently before being interrupted. 

“But that’s just it! It’s a children’s story; it explains the gods in a way that even eight year olds would understand.” Triumph was written on her face. 

“I’m not a child!” He snapped. 

“Oh no! That’s not what I meant Five, not at all!” She dropped down onto a bar stool next to him so they were on the same level. Her tone of distress made Five relax.

“Do you remember that story I told you? The one about the young girl who did college classes to supplement her middle school work? She got stuck on her maths homework because it was so simple that she’d completely forgotten how to do the basic work, and her professors couldn’t either? This is like that. All the historians, archaeologists and theologists are the college professors who can’t remember what it’s like to need to do the basics and this guy is the 8th grade math teacher.” She explained, gesturing with the book. 

Five relaxed. Dolores wouldn’t hurt him like that on purpose- not really. “Sorry Doll, it’s been so crazy at home- my siblings have been so _frustrating_. I’m just stressed, I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” He took her hand. 

She smiled at him. “So, this is the third book, and in it we get to meet Artemis, who appears as a 13 year old. It makes people underestimate her, which she uses to her advantage. Doesn’t that sound like someone I know?” 

He looked at her in awe. “Holy shit! You’ve done it! That makes so much _sense_. Of course I’d use my appearance to my advantage if I could manipulate it at will. I must have been caught looking like I was thirteen.” Dolores nodded excitedly. 

“Unfortunately we probably should assume you will stay looking perpetually thirteen,” she commiserated. He scowled at his coffee. Dolores grabbed her doughnut and took a large bite, ending up with icing on her nose. He leant forward and cleaned it off with a chaste kiss. She giggled and kissed his cheek in return, then gave him a quick hug. That was the normal extent to their physical relationship. After his explanation about the whole Athena thing, she caught on to the fact that he was asexual pretty quickly. It made the age gap so much easier to ignore while also not having to worry about anything illegal. Perhaps not socially acceptable (not for another few months at least), but neither of them cared. Their relationship was a meeting of minds not bodies. Five was pretty certain that it made their relationship so much stronger than many that were just based on lust. It had also helped his siblings finally understand his sexuality properly. Anyone else who raised a fuss would get a copy of his passport and a wish for them to kindly fuck off.   
Dolores scooped her dough into a tupperware dish and set it in the fridge. “What are you making?” Five asked her. 

“Scones. I managed to finally find some clotted cream at the farmers market this morning, so I thought that I should make some to go with it.” She replied, removing her apron. 

“Now that I think about it, that article that you lent me was really useful; I’ve made a good deal of progress on the time travel equations. I think it’s just about ready for forward jumps. But if you were to try this now, it could only be by a few minutes- 10 at the most, I think, until we have the backwards equation set.” She showed him the living room wall, which she’d covered in chalk paint. 

He stared at the wall, running the numbers through his head. Grabbing a stub of chalk, he subbed one number for another, stepped back and considered. Dolores nodded in agreement, “I hadn’t thought about it like that, although that would make it more stable. Wanna give it a go?” 

He grinned. “Five minutes for now,” he suggested. Dolores added in the relevant numbers. 

“Ready?” 

“Ready.” 

Five clenched his fists, screwed his face up, the equation running through his mind over and over. He _jumped_ but instead of focusing on a position, he focuses on the time. 

He opened his eyes and turned to the grandfather clock. Five minutes exactly since he’d tried jumping. He could hear Delores in the kitchen. 

“What’s the date?” He leant against the doorway. 

“November 23rd 2021,” Delores replied. Five felt like he’d been punched in the belly. 

“I’m teasing!” She said brightly. “It’s been five minutes exactly.” She pointed to the clock on her kitchen table that marked time down to milliseconds. 

“You’re awful,” he groaned. 

“I know,” She agreed, “But you did it, you jumped through time successfully and you look fine. You promise me that you’ll get a check up from your Mom though, ok?” She pointed her wooden spoon at him. 

“Promise.”

“Right, are you going to help me with the dinner or not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um hi? Sorry its been a while, but tent +arse end of nowhere doesn't really = easy updates/ writing. Also I've had literally 0 inspiration for this over the past couple weeks and I don't like depletibg my buffer. But, I now have an end to this fic. It's certainly not the end of the story, but it's going to be on a new document and a new fic to give me some mental separation so I can do some more exploration of some different themes and ideas. Also, it means I can bring the rating down to maybe a M or even a T to get more readers. So we've just got a couple more chapters of this left. I'm about to start writing the second bit, but atm I'm sat between a fridge and a washing machine trying to charge my phone before the rain starts and I hide in my tent. Enjoy


	15. In which a party is attended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a party is attended and Vanya makes a discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW- PANIC ATTACK  
> Holy shit you guys, it's been almost a month since I've updated this thing! I spent a month on placement in a tent in the arse end of nowhere, so all my writing was done by hand. Then I was roped into another camping trip in this beautiful little valley in Wales (I worked out how to clean dishes with moss, gravel and a river) that didn't have a shower, let alone signal/data. So this is very late. But I now have lots more buffer, enjoy! :)

Three hours. That was all it had taken for the six members of the Academy present to become smitten with the small Eldritch monster. Well, it really wasn’t that small in Allison’s opinion- it was about the size of a six-year-old and had far more limbs. She thought there were 13, the same as the number of eyes. At first, it had been disquieting, the limbs, the eyes, the fact that she couldn’t tell where their mouth was, but their sweet attitude and completely honest nature had won her over pretty quickly. She was a sucker for cute small things, sue her.

Diego, Ben and Klaus had disappeared to talk over the trip to the hell-realm in more detail. It had taken forever to get Klaus to make any sense about his first trip- he kept going on and on about a river of some sort- he admitted eventually that he had smelt some flowers then felt himself get high off of it so he wasn’t entirely sure what _had_ actually happened at the river. Only that it was important for some reason. Diego’s report was short and succinct, just as Father had taught him. He'd gone through to find Klaus, met Persephone (whom was apparently married to _Ben_ ), then went to go and investigate the source of the Bentacles and found Iain in the process. 

Soft, shimmery powder was deposited off Allison’s makeup brush onto her eyelids. She’d selected a gold to complement her newly blonde curls. A thrill ran through her every time she saw her hair in the mirror- Father would have never let her dye her hair, he thought such things were vain and a waste of time and money. She loved it. 

“You look nice. Are you going out?” Luther asked from her doorway. She met his eyes in the mirror. “Yeah, the guys at work are going to get dinner then they’re going to try and blag their way into a party for some B-lister and they said I could bring you lot along if you wanted. Vanya’s coming, do you want to?” 

“Ugh…” Luther looked awkward. “I don’t think so, I don’t like parties.” 

Allison turned to him incredulous. “Luther, you’ve never been to a party, you don’t even know what they’re like. It’s not going to be like those wild parties in films, this is the fancy kind with finger food and champaign.” 

“I wouldn’t have anything to wear,” he mumbled. 

“Luther, sweetie, you know Father made sure we had appropriate outfits for situations like this.” She reminded him. Luther just screwed his face up. 

She looked him straight in the eyes, “Luther, I heard a rumour that you relaxed and came with Vanya and me tonight.” 

He visibly relaxed and nodded. “The last time we went to a party- I mean, we weren’t invited but we were there- was when… Was when Klaus died.” He admitted. 

Allison felt a wave of shame. She’d just thought that he was being uptight. “Luther, I’m so sorry. We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”  
But the rumour held strong and he shook his head, “You’re right, I need to relax and come with you. It should be fun!” He turned and ducked into his room. 

Allison bit her lip. She hadn’t realised that Luther was still so shaken up about the incident. _She_ was dealing pretty ok with the help of her therapist, but she hadn’t seen Ben almost die barely a few days apart from what happened with Klaus. 

“Hey, are you Ok?” Vanya asked, appearing in her doorway. She was wearing a gold mermaid dress with a sweetheart neckline and thin straps; she looked gorgeous and full of confidence in a way Allison had never seen her before. 

“Yeah, just a little shaken.” She went back to making up her face. “I rumoured Luther into coming with us. The last time we were at a party Klaus died. Luther is still messed up over it.” 

Vanya sat down on her bed. “That was a pretty shitty thing to do,” She pointed out. 

Allison dropped her brush and turned around, shock written across her face. She’d expected Vanya to be on her side. Vanya had never gotten along with Luther. She pointed out as much. 

Vanya scowled, “it’s not about sides. There _aren’t_ any sides, we aren’t fighting, not anymore. We’re _supposed_ to be trying to get along. It was a shitty thing to do to Luther, especially since you two are so close. But you didn’t mean to hurt him. Apologise and try not to do it again.” 

Allison smiled shakily, “You’re right, as usual. It _was_ a shitty thing to do.”

“Perhaps you should talk to your therapist about this. You do do it quite a lot. Don’t get me wrong- if I had powers I’d want to use them all the time, but this could end up really backfiring on you.” Vanya suggested gently. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Allison was reluctant to agree, but she knew that Vanya was right.

“Come on, you’re almost ready, then we can go. Let me help,” Vanya grabbed the brush and began to help her. 

___________________________________________________

Allison’s dress was very similar to Vanya’s but in crimson, with a square neckline and lace detailing on the bodice. Luther wore a simple black tux with a black bowtie. Klaus had protested that it was far too boring at the time and had stolen it and sewed black sequins along the lepals, to add ‘a little sparkle’. Despite all three being young and still vaguely awkward, they made a striking image. 

Allison’s friends had batted their eyelashes and with a bit of wheedling, they all managed to slip into the party. The music was loud but not crazy. People dressed to the nines thronged the place, chattering, laughing and drinking the free booze. Vanya had spotted one of the violin soloists of the New York Philharmonic and had made a beeline over to her. Allison saw a girl she thought she recognised from an interview at a magazine- she’d been up after them, what was her name Selena something… She was a few years younger but was already an acting on some inane kids tv shows, but as she got older, Allison could see her getting a lot more work. 

Luther trailed behind her as she started a circuit of the room, talking with anyone she recognised and many she didn’t- she was still pretty recognisable, people didn’t forget about the existence of superheroes in a few months. Several people were interested to hear about her modelling aspirations, more about her acting inclinations. Luther had even managed to accidentally charm himself a modelling contract by trying to explain his passion for space to a tiny Japanese woman with a thick German accent. He was becoming more and more bemused by her extravagant exclamations (such as ‘no capes!’) and actually looking like he was having a good time. Allison was glad. She’d apologise to him on their way home. 

Heels dangling off of her wrist, Allison giggled into her stolen glass of champagne- it was her fifth or maybe her sixth, and while it wasn’t strong she’d barely had more than a glass of wine with her meal when they were invited to fancy dinners in the past. Mikey- some sort of rich LA surfer dude- was going on about this awful dinner his parent’s had attended which had had sitcom levels of disasters while Allison and some of her work friends clustered around him in a hidden alcove- all were underage and had been drinking and passing a joint around for the last hour. Vanya hung off her arm, extremely tipsy and bursting into song every few minutes, causing their group to snort helplessly with mirth. While Vanya was a great musician, a great singer she was not. 

“Hey, Rumour, I think you need to go to your brother!” A stranger grabbed her. 

“What?” She stared at them in incomprehension. 

“Something’s wrong with your brother, he’s having some sort of meltdown.” That got Allison’s attention. She allowed them to drag her upstairs to a balcony where Luther was huddled in a corner hyperventilating. 

Her knees twinged painfully as she dropped into the ground next to him, reaching up to cradle his face. “Luther, it’s me, can you hear me?” No response. “Luther if you can hear me, can you squeeze my hand?” She pried apart his fist and slotted her hand into his. The bones in her hand ground together painfully. Ignoring the pain she squeezed back. 

“Luther, can I out your other hand on my chest.” Another squeeze. Gently she massaged his other hand until it unfurled and placed it on her chest, covering it with her free hand. Inhale, hold, exhale. Their hands rose and fell together. Inhale, hold, exhale. Over and over until Luther’s breathing started to replicate hers. “Good, good, you’re doing really well. Keep going,” she reassured him. 

A wave a relief washed over her when he started to uncurl, his breathing even, if not a little laboured. His shoulders started to shake in sobs. Vanya curled around him, humming his favourite songs under her breath. He turned big wet eyes to Allison, “why didn’t you rumour me?” He asked brokenly. 

“Oh sweetie, don’t you remember? I did that to Klaus just after he started having nightmares because Dad told me too. It ended up prolonging his freak-out overall.” Beautifully manicured hands brushed away fat tears from his face. “O-oh y-y-yeah,” sobs making his voice rather incoherent. “I saw that guy- Dave- the one who Klaus was talking to. I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

“No!” Vanya cut in furiously, “you don’t have to be sorry for this. This is a completely normal reaction to stress Luther. We’ve all had them, me more than most. I know I shouldn’t do this, but here,” she held out two of the small white tablets that she’d kept in her purse for emergencies. “It can be difficult to sleep after an attack like this.” 

“Thanks,” he swallowed the pills dry then heaved himself to his feet. “I think I’m going to head home, you two can stay if you want.” 

“No, we’ll come with you. My feet are _killing_ me,” Allison grimaced. 

“Me too,” Vanaya groaned. “I have no idea how people wear these things on a regular basis.” She grimaced at her heels. 

“I’ll call a taxi,” Allison pulled out her phone. 

Back in the Academy Allison gratefully dropped her heels on her floor and pulled handfuls of pins from her hair, dumping them on the vanity. “Luther, could you get my zipper?” He hummed in agreement and helped her out of the drees. Their clothes ended up in a pile on the floor, neither of them bothering to fold them just collapsing into her bed once they were both in pjs. Allison burrowed into his warmth, letting his breathing soothe her to sleep. 

__________________________________________

A pounding headache greeted Allison when she woke. All three of them looked decidedly worse for wear when they eventually entered the kitchen for breakfast. 

“You know, if you ever criticize my drinking again, I _will_ be using this against you,” Klaus informed them cheerily, milk droplets flicking everywhere as he waved his spoon around. He ignored their glares in favour of stuffing more fruit loops into his mouth. “The best hangover cure is- wait for it- more booze!” 

“Ugh.” The arms over Vanya’s face muffled her voice. 

“I didn’t expect you to drink Luther,” Five said over the rim of his coffee mug. 

“I didn’t,” Luther said tiredly, “I had a panic attack, which is probably why I feel like crap.” 

“That sucks dude, you ok?” Diego asked. He’d finally started to ease off Luther when they’d turned 18 and he was no longer acting like he was arbitrarily _better_ than the rest of them. 

“Yeah,” he sat down next to Klaus and caught hold of his shirt hem. Klaus plopped himself down in his lap, something he’d never have done six months ago. 

“What! I miss being the little spoon sometimes!” He protested as Ben pouted at him. Klaus still somehow managed to instinctively understand their emotional state, Allison reflected. She helped herself to a bowl of Klaus’ fruit loops- normally they were far too sweet for her but she was craving sugar. 

“I managed to jump forward in time three times last night. Dolores and I finally got the equations right.” Five informed them smugly. “The backwards ones aren’t quite there yet but should be soon.” 

“Well done, dude,” Ben grinned. Iain made a happy noise from where they were draped on Diego’s shoulders. 

“Luther dear, I’m having trouble with this jar,” Grace told him with a smile, offering him a jam jar. 

“Sure Mom,” he took the jar. It was easy enough to reach around Klaus’ skinny form with both arms. He turned the lid, expecting it to pop right off. Instead, his hand slipped around the metal lid. Frowning he put more weight into the action. Nothing. Using force that would normally crush the jar into pieces didn’t achieve anything either. 

“Are you sure brother-mine that you didn’t take anything last night?” Klaus asked.

“No, only one of Vanya’s anti-anxiety tablets.” He replied. 

“What did you say?” Five asked slowly. 

“I said I took one of Vanya’s meds, nothing else.”

“I gave them to him, Five, he didn’t steal them,” Vanya interjected. 

Five ignored her, “Luther how many pills did you take?” 

“Just two, after the panic attack,” Luther replied, confused.  
“Why did you have the attack?” Klaus asked. 

“I saw that guy- Dave- and suddenly I was back _there_.” Luther told him. 

“I’m not going anywhere Buddy, I’m pretty sure we’ve established that I can’t die- or _stay_ dead would be a better way of putting it.” Klaus patted his arm. 

“Would you two focus!” Five snapped, exasperated. “Luther are you sure that’s all you took?”

“Yes!” Luther snapped back, getting irritated. 

Five turned to Vanya, “how long have you been on your meds?” 

“As long as I can remember,” she said frowning. 

“It’s been exactly 13 years, five months, and 11 days sweetie,” Grace interjected. 

“So since you were four,” Five stared sightlessly into his mug. He took a deep breath, “Vanya, I think those pills might be suppressing your powers.” 

“Oh my god. Oh shit,” Allison’s eyes were wide. “Vanya, I am so, so sorry!”

“What?” Vanya asked her warily. 

“I remember now. We were about four and you were ill with something really contagious so Father kept you in the basement. He made me rumour you to think you were ordinary then rumour myself so I forgot it. I don’t know why I remember it now.” Allison said, trying not to cry. Was she really responsible for Vanya’s mousy demeanour? 

“Of fucking course Father would do that if he thought you couldn’t be controlled.” Five rubbed his hands over his face. Vanya had gone white. She got up, pulling the little orange bottle from her pocket and walked over to the sink. 

“Whoa, you can’t do that!” Klaus yelped, “You can’t go cold turkey on anti-anxiety meds, you’ll get withdrawal, which fucking sucks, believe me, and you could get really unstable. You gotta do that gradually while switching tablets.”

Vanya looked at the bottle in her hand, then threw it at the wall as hard as she could, The plastic broke, sending shards of plastic flying and white pills launching off in all directions. She stormed out of the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes that’s Selena Gomez and Edna Mode. I do realise that one of them isn’t real and the other not of the right age for this fic but I have a baby demon with 13 eyes called Ian in this. I’m not exactly going for 100% realism here. Also, yes, I know that’s not how anti-anxiety medication works, but they don’t know that and I need to plot. Also, Vanya's outfit is based on one Ellan Paige wore to a premiere early on in her career but I've forgotten which because I wrote this about three months ago
> 
> So while I was away I went on a bit of a Vikings kick (the people not the tv show) and I have written a v long vinette surrounding the Vikings for this 'verse. Four more chapters of this, then we'll get a series of vinettes then another multichapter fic to complete the arc. #sorrynotsorry


	16. In which Vanya dyes her hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vanya dyes her hair and makes up with her family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh....Hi? I'm sorry this took so long, I've been v busy and keep forgetting that my mind doesn't have an instant link to write/ upload my chapters when I've finished their idea on paper or in my head

A small scrap of paper lay next to the computer that Vanya was using in the public library. She was trawling through a medical dictionary, cross-checking it with the ingredients of her anti-anxiety meds and the off-brand version on the computer. It was becoming more and more clear that her meds had been commissioned especially for her- being a billionaire meant it was easy enough to get unregulated drugs for your adopted super-soldiers. She called her doctor’s office and set up an emergency appointment for later that day, the sooner she was rid of the suppressants the better. Whatever her power was she’d deal with it. 

Once she finished her search she logged out of the computer and replaced the heavy book back on its shelf. She wandered aimlessly through the streets- she had three and a half hours to kill before her appointment. Fury seethed and roiled in her gut; she had the burning feeling to _rebel_ against Sir Reginald- he’d never been enough of a father to her for her to think of him as such. In the fashion of all teenage girls ever going through a break-up or wanting to rebel against their parents, she ducked into the nearest hairdressers. 

Vanya’s favourite violin wasn’t the masterpiece of rosewood that Sir Reginald had let her use, instead it was a lightly battered antique that had been painted white by someone, stripped of its strings and put up for sale in an antiques store several blocks from the mansion. She’d spent months coaxing it back to life, the sound was rich and sweet. It played like a dream and it was the one she played at her concerts. Her nickname had become the ‘White Violin’ in her junior orchestra. She loved the name- it made her feel like she fitted in with her siblings with their superhero names. 

Sunlight illuminated her newly white-blond hair to silver when she emerged from the hairdressers. The short strands floated around her ears, almost as if they had a life of their own and didn’t want to obey the laws of gravity. Power and furious confidence burned through her veins; it gave her the confidence to pull out several scraps of paper from her bag and spend the last hour and a half before her appointment calling the scrawled numbers for two orchestras and a prestigious private university for musicians and dancers.

“What can I do for you today?” Dr Flatley asked her. He was an old English man with silver hair, wireless glasses, watery blue eyes and a kind smile. 

“I think- no I _know_ my father is using my anti-anxiety meds to suppress any powers I might have.” She handed him the label from the bottle. 

“Why do you think that?” He was frowning at the paper in his hands. 

“Luther had a panic attack and I gave him two- I know I’m not supposed to but he was a mess, it was about when our brother died. Then in the morning he couldn’t open a _jam jar_.” She explained, “he’s the one with super strength,” she added. 

“Well, there are certainly some things in here that really shouldn’t be. Do you have any idea about why he would suppress your powers?” He asked curiously.   
Vanya shook her head, “I have no idea. But Allison told me that he made her rumour me into believing I was ordinary when I was about four. Maybe that’s why I’ve never done anything extraordinary since,” she laughed bitterly. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Dr Flatley smiled at her, “Don’t give me that look. I spent two decades as a school teacher while my children were growing up. I have met many a young person and few have made such an impression as you. You’re extremely intelligent and you’re incredibly accomplished with the violin- so very few young people I’ve met keep on an instrument after the ages of 13 or 14. You are certainly not ordinary.” 

“Thanks,” is all she could manage while trying to suppress tears. Very few people had ever been truly kind to her over the years and one of those people was a robot.

Dr Flatley scribbled on a pad of paper, then filled out a prescription for her. “Here are instructions for reducing the dose of your old medication over the next few weeks and a new prescription for a different kind of anti-anxiety tablets that should suit you more. I have no idea what your old doctor was doing prescribing these to a toddler, they’re incredibly strong there are other drugs that work much better with children. Hopefully, those should make you feel much more lively. I do like your hair,” he added as she left. 

Clutching a bottle of her new meds, Vanya made her way back to the Academy. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself then slipped back into the dim entrance hall. It could really do with having light walls and more lights, in general, she observed distractedly as she passed through. 

A thunk of a cane on wood altered Vanay to Pogo’s presence. She tried to push past him- why hadn’t he _told_ her about this. He caught her wrist, “Miss Vanya, I _am_ glad that you found out about this without my interference. Your Father made Allison rumour me into being unable to talk to you about anything pertaining to those tablets when he decided to put you on them. I have tried so many times to tell you, but it has never worked, your mother also. It has been so hard to see you hurt over these years.” He told her with genuine sadness. Much of the tension drained away with his words. 

“It’s Ok Pogo, you couldn’t have done anything, I’m just angry,” She hugged him fiercely. Pogo had always been more of a father to her than Sir Reginald had ever been. 

“You have every right to be angry, but please don’t take it out on your siblings. They were rumoured too, including Miss Allison. They couldn’t have done anything either,” Pogo said into her ear as they hugged. 

“Ok, I’ll try,” She whispered. 

They broke apart. “Your siblings have gathered in the attic if you want to go and join them.”

Vanya nodded and walked away, listening to Pogo’s painful shuffle. Why didn’t Pogo go back to his natural heaving walk now with Sir Reginald was gone, or even go back to walking on all fours? She knew how much walking like a human hurt him- his pelvis and feet were just _not_ evolved for walking bipedally. Vanya hated Sir Reginald for all his abuses big and small. 

Five was standing at a chalkboard with the others ringed around him when she entered the attic. He paused when he saw her, blinking. “I like your hair,” he commented. 

“Oh, Vanya dearest! Finally, you’ve joined the land of the fashion-living! Your hair is simply _divine_ ,” Klaus exclaimed looking incredibly pleased with himself. 

“Like the White Violin, right?” Diego asked. Delightfully surprised that he’d remembered, she nodded happily, “And I got new meds, it should only take a week or so for the old ones to wear off.” 

“We were just waiting for you so we can go over what we know so far,” Five informed her, flipping over the chalkboard. She settled down on the floor next to Allison, who still looked rather worse for wear. 

“So we know several things; 1) We’re gods of various different forms. 2) Ben is stuck with the gate to his hell-realm open which is why Ben has no control over Them, they’re doing what they think is right to prevent souls from escaping. 3) Klaus can’t die because he’s a psychopomp and none of the realms of the dead can hold someone who is _supposed_ to travel between them. 4) My temporal manipulation abilities work as expected when travelling forward. 5) Vanya has powers that Father has been suppressing all these years. 

"We need to find solutions to points two and five; somehow we are going to have to close the Hell Gate before They completely lose it and potentially spill souls back into the realm of the living, and we have to help Vanya gain control of her powers which could be dangerous.” Five explained, pointing to the relevant points written out in his untidy scrawl in chalk. 

Sensing someone was about to protest he cut in, “Think! Father was ruthless; Luther, he made you carry heavier and heavier weights whilst doing the strenuous exercise until you collapsed. Allison, he made you talk and talk and talk until you lost your voice and he made you rumour us. Diego, he made you throw knives at us and locked you in that tank for _days_ at one point. Klaus, father locked you in the mausoleum. Ben, you were made to bring Them out over and over until they almost _ripped you apart_. When did he ever let us not use our powers? He suppresses Vanya’s. There can only be one reason, you were so strong that he was scared of you,” He aims the last part at Vanya herself. 

“You’re right. But what _are_ my powers.?” She asked, biting her lip. It was very hard to think of herself as dangerous in any way. 

“I’m not sure, but I’m going to search Father’s office later. He recorded everything, let’ hope he kept these.” Five said bitterly. 

“You’re missing a few questions,” Ben pointed out.   
“Yeah? What are those?” Five snapped, voice dangerous. 

“Well, we don’t know _why_ we’re human or _how_ we’re human. Shouldn’t those be on our list of things to figure out too?” Ben replied calmly. 

“You’re right, sorry Ben,” Five added the suggestions to the list of things to do. 

“I think it’s got something to do with Reggie.” Klaus offered. 

“Yeah? How so,” Ben asked.

“This house is Victorian, right, and it used to be a factory. We all know that dear ol’ Reggie, is literally that _old_. He bought this place back when it became available. He remodelled it then and hasn’t since. There are 43 children’s bedrooms and 22 bathrooms. The dining room is big enough to seat 44 people for dinner. It would be a _huge_ coinkydink, too huge. He knew about all this before it happened.” Klaus explained, grin slightly manic. 

“Holy shit, you’re right Klaus. How the fuck did I not see this before? Of course, Father knew about us long before we were born. Shit, I really hope I can find his notes.” Five exclaimed, scribbling furiously onto the chalkboard. 

“Do you mean Father’s red book?” Luther asked quietly. 

Five turned to him slowly. “What did you just say?” 

“Father’s red notebook. He’s had it for years. We used to sit outside in his favourite spot, he’d write the previous day’s notes and I would read.” 

“Luther,” Five gritted out, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” 

“I didn’t think that you’d want to read it. You hate Father.” He looked apologetic. 

“You _never_ think,” Five muttered under his breath.

A gunshot rang out below, causing them to jump. “Iain,” Diego yelped. Five caught his wrist. 

“No! Iain can take care of themselves. We have to get to the bunker!” Five snapped at them. 

Too late, his hands glowed blue. The attic door slammed open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Dr Flatley is entirely based on Mr Flatley from Mihigh, just go with it. I swear I'm coming close to having about half of Luther's vinette written, so I'll be updating slowly until that's done


	17. In which the Commission is introduced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Commission is introduced and Five suffers the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING- description of torture, I'll put ******* around the section so those who don't want to don't have to read and I'll put a summary in the endnotes

“Which one of you has been conducting unauthorised temporal travel!” A figure in a red gas mask yelled at them. Klaus struggled to his feet then sat himself down on the edge of Ben’s wheelchair, arms splayed to shield him from sight. Luther had done the same, pulling Vanya and Allison behind him. Diego had a knife clenched in each of his hands. They all staid stubbornly quiet.

“If one of you doesn’t start speaking, I will start shooting. Ten… Nine… Eight…” The figure yelled. 

“I did!” Five yelled. From the looks in their eyes, he could tell that they weren’t bluffing. Cooperation with them was the least likely to get them all killed at this point. Wild fear coursed through him only belied by the frantic twitching of his fingers, searching for a weapon that he didn’t have. “I’ll go with you, but only if you leave right now!” 

The figure nodded shortly and took his arm, squeezing painfully. Five was dragged out of the room and down four flights of stairs, tripping over his feet every now and again. Ten more figures stood in the entrance hall. Half of them were carrying black briefcases with guns over their shoulders, the other half were clutching their guns tightly. The figure jerked him to a stop and grabbed one of the briefcases. A familiar swirling glow of blue and they were gone. 

Rough tarmac scattered with loose pebbles was suddenly beneath his knees, pain flaring from them. Ignoring it he staggered to his feet looking around; he was on a small path leading from an observatory to a 20s mansion, possibly German from his best guess. There were people milling around, moving too and from the observatory to the mansion, arriving in cars and generally just chatting on the steps leading into the building. All the people wore various shades of blue and the cars were also blue. The fashion and the cars indicated that this was either in the 1950s or the head of whatever organisation this was just _really_ had a thing for the 50s. 

“Where and when am I?” He snapped. The figure holding his arm said nothing but pulled him around the side of the building, pushing him through a black metal door. It was cool inside, just enough so to make goosebumps rise on his arms but not enough to bring on a shiver. He could faintly hear the murmur of voices and the clicking tap of what sounded like typewriters. 

The barrel of a gun pressed into the small of his back, taking the hint he strode down the corridor. Dull blue walls gave it an oppressive atmosphere. “Halt!” He stopped outside another black metal door. One of the masked people opened the door and shoved him inside, the bolt thinking in the lock behind him. The room was bare apart from a metal desk and two chairs, both of which were bolted to the floor. A black plastic box sat on the table. On further investigation, it turned out to be a voice recorder. Scowling at the thought of doing what he was told, he stalked around the room looking for a way out. He ran his fingers along the door frame to see if he could find a weakness to exploit. 

He jumped across the room when the door opened, knocking the wind out of him. He scowled at the figure in the doorway. It was a platinum blond woman who wore a black dress, opera length gloves and a fascinator with a veil. She looked smugly pleased to see him on the back foot. 

“Sit please,” She instructed him. Five just furled his arms and scowled at her harder. “Ah well, as you wish.” She perched daintily on the edge of one of the seats and turned on the recording device. “For the recording, I am Handler Giml conducting an interview with a juvenile male from the year 1187 P.C. The day is 129209 of The Commission of the Temps Aeternalis. What’s your name?” She gave him a blindingly insincere smile.

“Five,” He muttered bullishly- he hated being termed a _juvenile_ and it was better to be called _something_ rather than a child. They couldn’t do much with a first name. 

“Fabulous. Now, why have you been undertaking temporal jumps Five?” A long cigarette holder appeared from somewhere. She lit it and inhaled, blowing a stream of smoke that was somehow insulting. 

Five didn’t reply. “When am I?” He countered. 

“1955, West Germany, close to the border with East. Perfect location for this place really.” Handler Giml said, more smoke leaking from her mouth and nostrils.

1955- 129209 days, just a day under 354 years. This place had existed here in 1955 for 354 years. Interesting. The Commission of the Temps Aeternalis- the commission of eternal time. It figures. Father hadn’t been being difficult then, there was someone watching the time stream. Why didn’t he just _tell_ him that, then he’d have been more careful- he’d have waited until the equations for travelling to the past were complete? Stupid, stupid, stupid. But, she’d made a big mistake admitting where and when they were. It might take him a few days to tweak the equations to allow for a combined temporal/spatial jump, but he’d be able to get out of there soon.

“The people who came to my house- they accused me of _unauthorised_ temporal jumps. Why would this organisation require temporal jumps to be authorised?” He asked instead of answering her question. 

“We are protecting the time stream- it has to stay how it is,” She replied, filling the room with a blue-grey haze. 

“How time is when?” Time, when looked at from a mathematical point of view, wasn’t fixed. Going back or forward in time would change time in and of itself. And, what was the problem with changing time, it’s not like that bootstrap paradox was real? Any possible decision at any possible time had already been made and had sprouted off different universes. Any change in time had already happened and would always happen. “You’re trying to make sure that a certain outcome happens in this specific universe aren’t you? Something favourable for your employers, correct?”

“Ah, very clever, you’re figuring it out. But of course, you would. To be able to perform temporal jumps without a briefcase at all requires outstanding intellect, to perform them precisely to an intended goal is something else. I should have guessed.” She said, leaning back in her chair. “I assume that you were jumping to see whether or not you could. Five minutes down to the millisecond? What purpose could such a jump serve other than to test a power?” 

Five glared at her- had she already known and was just getting him to confirm, or was she just guessing? It was difficult to discern. 

Handler Giml’s face was impossible to read.“How did you come to acquire the ability to jump- I see that it isn’t limited to only temporal jumps?” 

Five continued with his strategy of not answering her questions. Also, at this point, he really had no idea- there was nothing in the mythos suggesting that Athena could jump like he did other than the fact that she could appear wherever she wished, but that wasn’t exclusive to her. Perhaps she’d been caught in the middle of the jump when he was conceived. He still didn’t see them as the same person- there was no way they had the same personality with how different their lives were. 

“The agents who retrieved you recorded anomalous energy signatures within the house. Where did those originate from?” She asked unperturbed by his silence. 

Nothing. 

She leant forward, “The robot that the agents encountered was made from technology not developed until three decades after your current time. Where did it come from? Who built it?” 

A muscle in her jaw twitched. Five felt a thrill of triumph, childish as it was to find amusement at pissing off an adult. 

“Five, you are being a tad vexing. It would be very much in your favour to answer our questions now. We have many agents who are highly accomplished at persuading people. Persuasion in that form tends to be… unpleasant.” Her smile told him that she would very much like him to continue staying quiet. Well, he’d just have to make her happy this once. 

“Fuck you,” He snapped. 

“Very well,” Handler Giml said delightedly. She jammed the stop button and got up. “Have fun Five,” She called over her shoulder as she left the room. Another agent, slightly smaller than the first grabbed him and pulled him out of the room. 

He was deposited in a cell three floors down. Bare gunmetal grey walls, a stainless steel loo and a bed held up by a chain connected diagonally to the wall greeted him. A book lay on the bed. Picking it up he saw it was a battered copy of Crime and Punishment. He smiled grimly and pulled a stub of pencil from his pocket and got to work.

____________________________________________

Growls from his stomach informed him that it was likely an hour or so after dinner- he’d had his meals at the same time for his 18 years of life- he could set the time off of his stomach almost perfectly he’d found over the years when his training or missions made him miss meals. The book was already a quarter full of his equations, he was getting through them quicker than he expected, Dolores’ voice echoing in his mind whenever he made a mistake.

Abruptly the door swung open. He was escorted to another room further down the corridor. Inside was an old-fashioned dentist's chair with straps for his head, arms and ankles. Steeling himself, he let them strap him on. Two days- he just had to hold out for two days, possibly even less than that. He could hold out for two days. Father had made sure that they could withstand interrogation when they were 16 after Diego had managed to be kidnapped on a mission- he was stubborn enough not to break but he still had a scar running from behind his right ear to the top of his cheekbone.   
**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

A stick-thin woman in an old fashioned apron and arm sleeves that were both covered in faded rusty stains. Trays of instruments were laid out around the edge of the room. She inspected them quickly, selecting a long thin instrument that looked like a flat needle. A thunk and crackle told Five that she’d also turned on another recording device.

“Mr Five, I will give you one last chance to answer my questions before I will begin the torture. One- why were you conducting unauthorised temporal jumps? Two- where did you gain the ability to perform such jumps? Three- where did the technology come from for the robot within your residence?” She asked him flatly, regarding him with muddy brown eyes. She looked like a rat Five decided. 

He chewed his lip for a moment. “I don’t know the answer to your third question. I was four the first time I met h- it.” He admitted. Such knowledge wouldn’t help them in any way and had the potential to minimise the damage that would be inflicted upon him. The back of his mind was screaming at him, begging him to tell them everything. He quashed it easily. 

“And the other two questions? No? Alright, we’d best begin then.” She said with disinterest. Without further preamble, she stuck the blade under the nail of his right little finger. He clenched his teeth, running through the equations in his head over and over. She gave him an expectant look for a long moment. Like hell he was going to give up now. He looked away as best he could with his head strapped in place. The blade was inserted, wiggled a little, a pause, then removed. It took six minutes to complete all the fingers. Five was very good at estimating time- he had to be to jump properly. 

Expression bored, she replaced the dirty blade onto its tray. Scarlet blood gleamed in the bright fluorescent light. Plastic rustled from behind him, then cool sticky pads were attached to his forehead. A mouth guard was held up to his lips. As much as he wanted to refuse, he knew that being electrocuted without one with his head strapped like this would likely cause his teeth to break. He really didn’t want that, so he opened his mouth and bit down on it. 

A burning heat spread across his forehead. It only lasted for a couple of seconds before he blacked out. When he came to his forehead burned and everything ached. His thoughts were slow, like trying to wade through molasses; for a person whose thoughts normally raced around quicker than he could register, being aware of the muzzy feeling scared him. Blood rushed in his ears and he could hear the frantic beating of his heart. Tears slipped down his cheeks unbidden. All he could do was sit there and breathe and wait. 

About an hour later he was deposited on the thin mattress on his bed. Whimpers emerged from his mouth, he was furious at the sounds but he couldn’t stop them. Everything _hurt_ , especially his wrist. The snap still rang in his ears. The only consolation was that it was his right wrist, not his left. 

Once the full-bodied shudders and whimpers had subsided, he pulled out the book and pencil stub. Swollen and bloodied fingers meant his normal tiny chicken scratch ended up large and almost unintelligible. His mind raced, skittering over the numbers with barely enough time for his writing to keep up. 

Day two was far worse than day one. The last time he'd slept was about 36 hours ago and then it had been his usual four hours. Food and water had been about 30 hours ago, making his tongue feel thick and his head muzzy. Of course, the electrocutions hadn't helped. The woman had disappeared perhaps 20 minutes ago, leaving his head and ankle straps undone; she'd undone them when he'd almost broken his own neck thrashing with electricity and he certainly wasn't going to be able to go anywhere in the state he was in.   
***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Yellow and red trails followed the spinning walls making him feel dizzier. He closed his eyes hoping that it would calm the feeling of being tossed around in a tiny boat on a stormy sea. No such luck. But his consciousness started to fray at the edges which was good enough for him. 

Soft music woke him. He was lying on a comfortable bed, surrounded by pillows, He didn’t hurt at all. Not knowing why he got up and sat down at the vanity on the opposite wall below the window. The room looked out upon a valley far below that was covered in a dappling of black. Mountains rose again in the distance, their summits dusted with snow. 

Fierce silver eyes met his in the mirror. For some reason, it didn’t bother him despite the fact that his eyes were normally green. A young woman also looked back at him in the mirror. She looked like him in every way, apart from the sharper cheekbones and slightly thinner eyebrows. 

“Finally!” The woman in the mirror said, “I’ve been trying to get through forever. Don’t give me _that_ look, it’s not like you’re helping. The cell you’re in is jump-proof. If you jump now you’ll waste all your energy- you’ll take days if not longer to recharge in this state. You _have_ to wait until the circuit is broken. Once the door is open you go, don’t wait. Or you’ll never get out. Do you understand?” She demanded. He nodded daisidly. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get through earlier- this is a suspended quantum state that only exists within your mind, a part of your powers, but you weren’t in a receptive enough state. Everything will work out, for better or worse eventually, try not to worry,” she explained softly. 

“Be warned, The Commission isn’t your biggest enemy nor your hardest challenge. When you get out of here go to your Father, get him to explain. Don’t let him refuse. He doesn’t yet know that none of you can die- why do you think Ben is still alive? Klaus is a different matter, of course, he can bounce back from anything, the rest of you would still have to heal slowly. But you can use that against your father. Threaten one of your siblings- a knife to the carotid will hurt but will heal with minimal damage. Do it to yourself if you can’t bear to hurt your siblings. Promise me that you will get all the information out of your father!” 

“Promise me Five!” She snapped. 

“I promise," he snapped back, expression the exact mirror of hers

"I can't do much, but I can do a little to heal you, you know what to do with that." She gave him an oh so familiar wicked grin. "Give them Hell." 

Slowly, like rising from the bottom of a deep well, Five regained consciousness. While nothing had been done for the dehydration, his temples only stung, ribs only a little sore and feet only cramping. With the restored dexterity, he could feel a loose screw in the strap holding down his left wrist. Keeping his movements small, he succeeded in loosening the screw enough so that a sharp tug would be all that was required to free his hand. 

Straining to hear, he decided that no one was on their way to look in on him. He pulled his left wrist free, although in the process he dislocated his thumb. Gritting his teeth he unbuckled the other hand as quickly as possible and jumped as far away as he could and still be in the building and hopefully away from people. 

He sneezed as a thick cloud of dust puffed up from the floor. Eyes watering he looked around- he was in some kind of attic; it was full of steel grey filing cabinets. He jumped across the room, away from the door behind two cabinets that were situated at right angles to each other. Shoulders hunched, he shoved himself into the nook that was left between the two of them and dug out one of the blank pages from the book and his pencil stub. Using his left elbow to hold it in place, he clumsily used his right hand to scribble down the numbers. With a clear-ish mind, it only took an hour or so to finish the equations. Perfect. 

Something deep in the back of his mind made him grab a thick folder that had managed to fall into his little nook- some time ago from the slightly fuzzy dusty feel. He tucked it into his jacket and allowed the swirling blue time vortex to transport him home. He landed on the bottom step of the stairs, cradling his dislocated hand to his chest. His siblings barreled down the stairs and Ben shot out of the lift. They converged upon him like clamouring seagulls, questions layering over each other until he couldn’t parse out what they were saying. “I’m going to bed,” he yawned, dismissing their questions. He made an abortive jump; instead of landing in his room, he only made it to Mom’s charging station. He mentally shrugged, it was soft and a tad quieter than the stairs, so he curled up and let sleep take him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... So, I'm like 2/3 of the way through Luther's vignette and I've just had a breakthrough with what I want to do with Klaus/Ben so I think it might get posted in like September? 
> 
> So, I have a thing about how in tv shows Americans seem to think they're the only country in the world and it annoys me- and I highly doubt that an organisation like the Commission would be entirely made up of just Americans. So I looked at the architecture and the cars and reasoned that Germany looked right and near the border with the USSR because it's 1955 and I'm sure the Commission had their fingers in lots of different pies. Giml is the name of a letter from the Phonecian alphabet- it's just a code name inspired by the Handler talking about people not speaking Yiddish anymore and then running with old languages until I found something appropriately vague.
> 
> Also, I had a dream that season 2 was out last night and that Ben's original name was Billy and for most of my dream he was an adorable toddler- I now really want this to be a thing but I can let you know now that there will be a toddler in Luther's vignette. Enjoy
> 
> Summary of the torture scene- a goon is sent to try and get info out of Five- they want him to reveal who made Grace + why/how he has his powers


	18. In which Eudora meets the family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eudora meets the family and Mr Pennycrumb arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna stop making excuses for how late this is. I, like, have an issue where I abandon about 100% of my works which I'm really trying to fix but, like, it's not working? I mean this chapter has been sitting on my computer for about three months-ish.

Thud, thunk, creak. The punching bag ricocheted back at him. All of his pent up frustration started to dissipate. Five was being an arsehole, holed up in his room, barely letting Mom in to tend to the old wounds and bruises that covered him; he hadn’t explained where or how he got them. Of course, it had something to do with those goons that broke in and took him, but that’d been four _days_ ago. He punched the bag over and over until he was breathless. 

“Feeling better?” Warm arms wrapped around his waist, a dark head tucked into his shoulder. Sighing through his nose, he forced himself to relax into the embrace. He turned and took hold of Eudora’s waist. “A bit,” he admitted, “Five’s still not told us what happened to him. He is being such a _dick_ to Mom- there’s no need.” He griped. 

“He’s an 18 year 13-year-old. Of _course_ he’s a dick. Darius and Sebastian _are_ 13 and they are complete dicks. It comes with the territory. I’m sure he’ll tell you when he’s got through his funck.” Eudora informed him wryly. 

“Ugh,” He groaned. She giggled and stole a kiss. 

“Go shower and we can go and grab a coffee and doughnuts. Then, _you_ -” she poked him in the chest, “can introduce me to your siblings. You’ve been promising me for, like, two months. And now your brother has a new puppy, I wanna see it before it grows up” 

“Fine,” he grumbled, “but if you die from all the weirdness you can be the one to explain to your dad what happened.” She scoffed at him- she had four younger brothers at home, she could deal with his crazy-ass siblings. 

Diego hadn’t yet told her about Iain, who was currently asleep in his bed (thank god for nocturnalism). How the hell was he supposed to explain a sentient octopus (tredecopus) that had adopted him? Every time he tried, he’d stuttered so much that he abandoned the topic. ‘Dora was really understanding about when that happened and never pushed him, only dropping gentle reminders in a similar way that Mom used to. 

The motorbike gleamed in the weak winter sun on the pavement outside the boxing gym. ‘Dora waited for him by it, he pulled his helmet on and swung on behind her. Diego had been admiring her bike the first time she’d spoken to him. He’d been going to the gym for three weeks by that point and had spent a lot of time awkwardly hanging around her bike when she came out of the gym after her sessions. She’s finally given up waiting for him to approach her and had demanded why he was watching her like a creep if he wasn’t going to talk to her. When he’d tried to explain he’d stammered so hard that he couldn’t even spit one word out. Face flaming he’d turned to leave but she’d grabbed his arm and asked him to wait and had _apologised_ for pushing him. It hadn’t taken them long to start dating after that. 

Really, he could afford to get his own bike, he had his license and everything, but he treasured those brief moments when he could wrap his arms around her and just let her be badass. With the rush of wind and the blur of the buildings, it was if they were the only two in the world. 

Agnes cooed over Eudora whilst she prepared a box of two dozen doughnuts. “It’s so nice to see Diego here with such a nice young lady, he’s become so much more open since you two got together you know,” she whispered to her conspiratorially. She stuck a couple of extra daily specials into the box and winked at him. Rolling his eyes, he slipped a $20 bill under the sugar shaker when she wasn’t looking. 

“What was that for?” Eudora asked as they left. 

“We came in here all the time as kids; we’d eat until we’d throw up, spending almost all of our savings at once. She never charged us properly and we were never able to tip her. After Father left I would come in here and just sit and watch people. I tried to pay her back for all those years but she’d never take it. ‘You needed it’ she told me every time I left a huge tip and would only accept a few dollars. I always hide a big tip every time I go.” He shrugged. “It feels great to waste _his_ money on doughnuts. He thought they were plebeian,” he grinned. 

Eudora smiled, “you’re adorable Dee,” she teased.   
He scoffed,“I am _not_ adorable. I’m far too manly for that. ” Eudora rolled her eyes.   
“Sure thing Momma’s boy.” If Diego’s hands weren’t full of doughnuts he would have play-tackled her, but he didn’t really want the doughnuts to end up all over the road or flat on his back. He rolled his eyes and climbed back on his bike. 

________________________________________________

When they reached the Academy, his siblings were gathered in the drawing room, waiting for Luther to return with his puppy. 

“Guys, this is Eudora, Eudora these are my siblings. Klaus is the one in the skirt, Ben next to him. Allison is the one with the blond hair, Vanya the silver. Where’s Five?” He pointed to each of them in turn. 

“In his room,” Allison rolled her eyes, “I am this close to rumouring him out. Hey Eudora, Diego’s been telling us a lot about you,” She turned on her full customer service/ charming the press smile. 

“Uh, hi?” Eudora ventured, a little taken aback by the enthusiasm. 

“Sorry, I don’t have much interaction outside of the customers at my job, the press and these lot,” she waved a hand at them, “it’s a little hard to know how to react to people sometimes.” The rest of the Hargreeves made various noises of agreement, even Diego nodded. It was embarrassing but true.   
“Ahh, that’s OK. I’m pretty sure I’d be a bit unsure if I didn’t know that many people, either. Doughnuts?” She held up the box. 

Klaus whopped and snagged a handful, “You know exactly the way to a man’s heart! If you had a dick I might consider marrying you,” He considered his prize. “Nope, actually, I don’t mind, if you feed me like this all the time, I’d marry you anyway!” He turned to Ben, “Sorry Babe, you’ve been replaced!” 

“Klaus shut the fuck up,” Diego demanded. 

“Yes, _please_ do Klaus, I would love to have another girl for a friend. This place is _way_ too full of testosterone. Please don't scare her away.” Vanya threw a pillow at him. The change in her had been almost immediate as she switched medication, she was so much more _vibrant_ already. Sometimes Diego could have sworn that she was actually _glowing_. “Ignore that idiot Eudora, he’s just a slut for sugar.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Come join us girls and have an actual intelligent conversation.” 

“True, true,” Klaus chortled, offering Ben some of the doughnuts he’d grabbed. 

“If I’d have known that all it took was doughnuts I would have bought you some ages ago, not waited until you died,” Ben snarked at him, sugar on his nose. Klaus licked it off, cackling as Ben tried ineffectively to stave him off. 

Diego rolled his eyes, but joined Eudora on the sofa with Allison and Vanya. “Off!” Allison commanded, “Go and join those two numbskulls and leave us in peace. Oh! You could go and get Iain, I’m sure they’d love to see the puppy!” 

“Iain?” Eudora mouthed at him as he left the room.   
“Tell you later,” he mouth back, shaking his head. He’d just have to let Iain’s appearance speak for itself.

Said small tentacle blob was asleep tangled in the blankets on his bed. “Hey,” he shook them awake. “I have my girlfriend over and I want you to meet her. Also, Luther’s bringing the puppy back soon.” 

Thirteen eyes looked at him confused, “girlfriend? Aren’t Allison and Vanya your girlfriends?” 

Diego spluttered, “No! A girlfriend is like-” how to explain it? “It’s like how you have a mom and a dad- this is the part of the relationship before that.” Was all that he could come up with.   
“Are you two going to be laying eggs soon then?” Iain squeaked excitedly, curling around his shoulders.   
“What? No!” He yelped. “We’re nowhere near thinking about _moving in_ together let alone children. Also, people don’t lay eggs, the eggs grow in the mom’s tummy and are born later.” This was not something he thought he’d be doing today. 

“Diego, what is that?” Eudora asked slowly, going pale. 

Diego looked from her to Iain who was regarding her with all thirteen eyes. “Um, this is Iain. He’s the baby of the Bentacle- sorry Ben’s tentacle monster. We kinda r-rescued him from Ben’s Hell dimension. I was go-going to tell you but, uh… I wasn’t sure how?” 

“Oh. That makes complete sense,” she said blankly. Allison rubbed her shoulder.   
“I had the same reaction, but Iain’s pretty cute, like a toddler really.” 

Iain reached a tentacle out towards her. To her credit, Eudora didn’t back away, although she didn’t reach forward either. Diego walked forward slowly. Iain reached out further, then sort of rippled through the air and was draped around her shoulders a moment later. Eudora looked like she was going to pass out. Iain whispered something in her ear and she froze. 

Tension snapped through the room. Diego reached out to take him back. Eudora snorted, then as if a damn was broken started to hoot with laughter. “Dee, apparently you talk _a lot_ in your sleep. We’re going to have to discuss this later. In private,” she emphasized, pale cheeks quickly staining red. Oh god. 

Predictably Klaus joined in her laughter, Vanya following him, snorting uncontrollably at Ben’s snarky suggestions. Even Diego had to laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Luther stood in the doorway clutching a ball of caramel fluff, Dolores at his side. “Nothing,” Diego replied hastily, “we just introduced Eudora to Iain.” 

“Ah, well this is Mr Pennycrumb, isn’t she cute,” Luther held up the ball of fluff.

“Oh my god! She’s adorable. You’re right, there’s definitely some bear in there,” Vanya joked. Mr Pennycrumb was already absolutely massive for a young puppy. “Put her down!” Vanya and the little dog rushed to meet each other, Vanya being almost overtaken by fluff. 

Dolores made her way over to Eudora. “You must be Eudora! I’m Dolores, Five’s partner,” she stuck out a hand to shake. “Uh, hi? Aren’t you a bit old for Five?” Eudora replied.   
“Well, if you take into account he’s an immortal goddess whose roots go back at least 6000 years, then I think it’s the other way around!” She laughed. 

“Sure, I guess so,” Eudora still sounded unsure. A gentle squeeze around her neck reminded her that Dolores was certainly not the strangest thing today. 

“Puppy!” Iain chirped in her ear. Laughing she joined the huddle on the floor around the excited puppy. 

“We have to go! Now!”

The mass of people on the floor turned as one to Five who was clutching a thick sheaf of papers covered in his even messier than normal writing.   
“Five, what the hell is going on?” Ben demanded. Extreme anxiety was written all over Five’s face. 

“There’s an organisation that watches the time stream to ensure the optimum outcome for them. They saw my jumps- that’s why they sent people after me. Going through Ben’s portal has created massive temporal ripples that they’ve already noticed. They’re going to realise soon and come after us. They will kill you all,” he turned agonised eyes to Ben, “apart from you. They’ll take you to a lab and experiment on you until either They get loose again or you die from them extracting the portal. We’ve got to go but I have no idea where we can go that’s safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The puppy is a Leonberger


	19. In which plans are made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which plans are made and enacted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I don't post this now I can guarantee that it will never be posted, so here you go! Two chapters in one day! Luther's section is really almost done, then I'll start on Klaus' and Ben's section. I've finally had an idea for how I want that one to go now, so be on the look out!

Tingles spread up and down Ben’s missing fingers. He stared at where they were once contemplatively. With his good hand he poked his stomach slightly, feeling the writhing beneath his skin. “This Commission, what restrictions do _they_ have on temporal travel?” He asked.

“None,” Pogo replied. “They can reach any time they so wish, they are only restricted by environmental pressures.” A worn palm rested on Ben’s shoulder, a silent apology. 

Ben pursed his lips. “So we won’t be safe wherever in the world we travel, or whenever. Correct?” 

“Yeah,” Five acquiesced tiredly- he was swaying on his feet, Dolores was practically holding him upright. 

“So, hypothetically, if we were outside of time, then the Commission wouldn’t be able to find us?” he questioned as Klaus traced patterns on his arm, trying to keep calm- Ben could feel the tension building in him- there must be a particularly nasty ghost in the room with them. 

“You’re suggesting that we go to your Hell-realm!” Vanya exclaimed, excitement plain in her face. “But how will _you_ get in? It’s not like you can climb into yourself?” She pointed out, one hand still up to the elbow in puppy fluff. 

“There are entrances to the underworld all over the planet,” Klaus’ voice had a tremor in it. Ben turned to him in concern. His eyes were wide and he was even paler than usual. Ben squeezed his hand. “Reg’ made me go to one once- although I didn’t believe it was an actual entrance to hell. I was so scared I passed out. No, wait. I must have fucking _died_ ,” he realised, shaking uncontrollably, “or otherwise he would have taken me back…” 

“Where was this entrance?” Luther asked with all the tact of an ice-skating elephant. 

“Cleveland,” Klaus’ lips gave an involuntary twitch. A howl of laughter made them all jump- Five was doubled over, laughing hysterically. Poor Dolores looked like she was about to drop him. The laughter spread infectiously among them until even Klaus was giggling a little. 

Pogo had caught the tail end of their conversation before all the hilarity had started. He sniffed, wiping away a few stray tears of laughter with his hankie. He blew his nose delicately and tucked his handkerchief away. "I have had some dealings with The Commission in the past; leaving Master Benjamin on his own is a recipe for disaster, they would come across him eventually. They will be looking for you alone or as a whole, now that you children are on their radar. Splitting up into smaller groups might be best. There are other realms, not just the Underworld to hide in," he pointed out. 

Limping forward to stand in the middle of the group, he continued,"As a matter of fact, sending gods of the overworld into the underworld sounds like a terrible idea. Only Master Ben and Master Klaus have any business being in the Underworld." 

"So then we split up and find other places to hide. Allison - you love planning this sort of thing, can you sort it?" Five stated. Allison nodded eagerly, planning and strategy was her forte. Five was good, but he tended to forget that people were unpredictable and illogical - Allison banked on it. 

________________________

Over the next few days the plan came together. They'd split into four groups - Allison and Luther would go to Denmark, Klaus and Ben would go to Germany, Five and Dolores to Greece and Diego, Vanya and Eudora would go to Mexico. Diego had argued fiercely to try and get Eudora to stay behind, but she stubbornly pointed out that she would be in danger too if left behind. Their relationship hadn't been subtle at all. 

Vanya had wanted to go with Five, but Allison pointed out that Vanya on an aeroplane for 14 hours or more sounded like a great way to cause a plane crash if her powers suddenly manifested. And, she informed a furious Diego sweetly, it was about time they sorted out the resentment that had been brewing between them for the past decade. 

Allison's true moment to shine was the shopping trip. She had declared that none of their wardrobes was anywhere near fit for purpose and had dragged them out to a giant mall on the edge of town to splurge on. 

She had split them up into pairs, gave the pairs a list of clothes that they'd need and told them to pick out what they liked and she'd come around and help once they were done. They dispersed to a stern 'scat!'. 

Five had griped at Vanya all the way round--they ended up in a bookshop for most of the trip. Diego had a hard time keeping Klaus from going mad and getting every piece of sequined, shiny or otherwise glittery clothing he laid eyes on. Klaus wheedled so much that Diego gave in and chose some clothes with colour. Ben managed to persuade Luther not to get clothes that made him look like an old man or a cold war era spy. Luther glared menacingly at anyone who stared to long at Ben, then helped him find a new leather jacket. 

Allison took one look at what they'd picked out and threw half of it back on the racks and instead gathered a more fashionable variation for each of them. There may or may not have been a couple of subtle rumours to get them to agree to her selection. 

Supplies gathered, they had no more excuses to put off separating. They had one last evening with all of them together. Tearfully, Iain had been sent back through the portal the next morning - they'd all agreed that the Commission would likely be delighted to get their hands on them. Luther, Allison, Klaus, Ben, Five and Dolores left for the airport soon after, leaving Diego, Vanya and Eudora to pack their bags into a brand new vw camper van. Pogo, Grace and Mr Pennycrumb would be driving upstate to the lake house Diego had bought for them. 

Soon the Umbrella Academy was empty. The house settled down with a creak of wood, a groan of metal and a rustle of curtains. With no anchor to keep them there, the ghosts drifted off one by one, until only the spiders were in residence. A quick shudder and even they scuttled off, leaving the mansion an untouched relic to Victorian decor, a ruthless old bastard and seven traumatised super-hero children.

No one dared enter the place, the post was dropped on the porch, squatters avoided it like the plague, even pigeons stayed away. 

No one ever entered the house again.


End file.
